The Princess Bride
by conspiredfate
Summary: Just like the classic tale everyone loves, except that this princess is actually a boy, and everyone’s favorite farm boy is actually a girl. Wait, no, sorry, he’s still a boy. He just looks like he isn’t. Yullen.
1. Part I: A Wonderful Beginning

Authors Note: If you are picky about your fairytales staying perfect, read no further.

If you would like a little twist on a lovely pairing, a little amusement and an entertaining read... you've come to the right place!

I'll save the rambling for afterwards, since I know most people don't even read this...

I proudly present:

_S. MORGENSTERN'S CLASSIC TALE OF TRUE LOVE AND HIGH ADVENTURE_

_(the Kanda and Allen version)_

* * *

"I can't sleep," the young boy complained between coughs and sneezes. He accepted a Kleenex from his caretaker, an elderly man with shaggy hair who reclined on a chair beside the boy's bed.

"Then how about I tell you a story," the man asked, sitting up a little straighter. He leaned forward and his eyes gleamed.

"What kind?" the boy asked, sniffling.

"A classic. A tale of true love and high adventure."

"Well, the true love part sounds rather dreary, but okay. Is it going to be morally educating?"

"I'll try and edit out those parts."

The boy smiled. "Okay. I'll try and not fall asleep, then."

"You do that," the man grinned and cracked his knuckles. He stretched and scooted his chair closer to the boy. "Our story begins on a farm, on the outskirts of a very different London-town…"

* * *

The Walker family was quite famous in the small town of Florin, on the far outskirts of London (_not the London you know, one far past anyone's memory, one that only books remember_). Yes, all fifty inhabitants of the town knew the Walker family for two reasons: one, they owned the largest farm and nicest stable, and two, they were doused in tragedy (_all good stories almost always begin with tragedy, you see_). The fourteenth heir of the Walker family died a sudden and mysterious death many years ago, leaving everything to his frail, younger brother, one Mana Walker.

Mana Walker lived alone for a year after his beloved brother's death, until the family gained a new member. (_I say gained because this one wasn't from the Walker family, exactly, he was actually- well, you'll see._) Mana Walker made frequent trips to London town, taking a strange amount of delight in the circus shows that stopped often in the city squares. One day, the neighbors noted, Mana Walker went out as usual, but came back not alone. Clinging to his arm and tripping alongside him was a tiny child. They discovered it was a boy; upon first glance they assumed it to be a decrepit old man for this child had hair the color of moonshine.

A circus freak for sure, they said, and dismissed the boy. For many years the boy was closed off from society; people did not know what to think of him and thus did not like the sight of him, and Mana was unnaturally protective of Allen (_for that was his name_).

But as the years progressed, the tiny thing that had nearly fallen over his feet at every step grew into a fine young man. Allen Walker, people began to say, had the most pleasing eyes. Have you seen them? Like an April drizzle on the banks of the Thames, so gentle, so soft. Liquid silver if I ever saw it.

At eight years of age, Allen was the pride of Florin. Little Allen Walker, running errands for poor, sick Mana, was the sweetest thing since the discovery of honey. Red ribbon around his neck, always dolled up like a right gentlemen— white gloves even in summer!—and always so polite.

Yet still, people kept their distance. Mustn't touch porcelain dolls, parents told their ruffian children, or else they shall break. Allen Walker is the doll of this village, so don't you dare include him in your roughhousing!

Children, however, do not understand the complexities of society, nor the pedestal upon which things of unearthly, strange beauty stand. So they invented sensible excuses for Allen Walker's detachment from the townspeople; childish, cruel things, like how he was in fact the ghost of an old man and thus couldn't be touched, or that he was incredibly daft and had no brain, but their favorite was this: Allen Walker was a cursed child. Cursed from the very day of his birth (_Christmas, actually, isn't that funny?_) by some wicked banshee or vengeful spirit.

So the children, having been nursed by their own tall tales, were afraid and stayed away. Their parents, in awe and confusion over the odd angel-child, were also afraid and stayed away.

Thus, Allen Walker passed his childhood years in the quiet company of his beloved father Mana and his dear horse Tim. The townsfolk were pleasant enough whenever he should journey into town, but for the most part Allen, young as he was, could sense the uneasy aura that followed him everywhere, and so preferred to spend the majority of his time out on the farm. Tim, who had been a newly born foal when Allen entered the Walker family, was his closest friend.

When Allen Walker turned thirteen, there was an interesting change in his life. It was not the sort of change that can be compared to the difference between night and day, or before and after a hurricane, but more like a morning when you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, and you realize though different, it is not really the 'wrong' side- why, it feels just the same, so why should it matter?

Perhaps that made no sense. Perhaps it did. Metaphors aside, here was what happened to Allen Walker when he turned thirteen.

"This is Yuu Kanda," Mana said, gesturing to a lanky thing that was either a skinny, flat-chested girl or a rather effeminate boy. "He is going to be our new stable boy." Ah, a boy.

"Call me Kanda," the new stable boy muttered, eyes flashing though his tone was restrained into politeness.

"It's nice to meet you," Allen held out a hand, "you can call me Allen."

Kanda raised an eyebrow at the silky white gloves that forever covered Allen's hands, and shook the offered hand as though it were diseased. He released it at once, bowed stiffly, low enough that his long black hair and choppy bangs shaded his eyes, and excused himself from the room.

"He's a nice boy," Mana was saying, "a little uptight, but he is here because of a favor I owe his father, so I'll have to ask you to put up with any steeliness from him, Allen. He's excellent with horses though."

Allen nodded, but the words did not register. His hand was still tingling from Kanda's touch.

* * *

"And they become friends, right?" the boy asked, blowing his nose.

"Friends?"

"Yeah… I mean, it's not like they could become lovers," the younger said, rolling his eyes.

"And why not?" queried his elder with curious amusement.

That caught the boy off guard. He blushed a little and fidgeted. "W-Well, they're both…_guys_, right?"

"What's wrong with that? Have you ever heard the saying 'love is blind'? Well, in their case it was deaf too."

"Deaf? What do you mean?"

"I'll have to skip those parts. Kanda's speech towards Allen before he comes to sense is quite inappropriate for young children like yourself."

"Comes to sense…?"

"Falls in love."

"Are you _serious_? Can you skip all of that then? This is such a weird story," the boy groaned, burying himself deeper under the covers.

"Alright, but you won't mind so much someday. And you will have to know about it later—"

"I know, I know, but not now. Get to the good parts!"

"Very well, very well. So, as I have told you, Kanda and Allen came to become friends over the years, and eventually, albeit a bit slowly, the two idiots came to realize they were meant to be together."

"What kind of story has two idiots as the protagonists?" the boy mumbled.

"A real one," replied the man. "Do you still want to hear it?"

"Yes…"

"Then kindly shut up and listen. So, Kanda and Allen fell in love."

* * *

When Allen Walker turned seventeen, his favorite pastimes were listening to Mana play the piano, riding Tim around the pastures, and most of all: teasing Kanda when he returned from his rides.

"I want to see my face shining in this saddle by morning, Kanda," he ordered, though the grin on his face gave him away.

"Can't get enough of your ugly face in the mirror?" Kanda replied, leading Tim into the stable.

"What was that?" Allen asked innocently. "For a moment it sounded like you insulted your employer, stable boy. Now, I said I want that saddle pristine. And what did you say?"

"As you fucking wish," Kanda replied, glaring as he pitchforked hay into Tim's stall. Allen laughed like a bell and left. Halfway out the door he stopped, looked over his shoulder and smiled.

"I love you too, stupid Kanda."

Kanda's glare eased at Allen's routine confession, and he sighed. "Go, beansprout. You'll be late for dinner."The stable boy returned to work, expecting the boy to leave, but when Kanda looked up again, Allen was in front of him. "Oi…"

"Kiss me." Allen demanded without bashfulness.

Kanda stared at Allen for a long minute, watched a dusting of pale pink settle on his nose. He stabbed the pitchfork into the ground and crossed the minimal distance between them. His arms wound around Allen's slim waist and Allen's arms looped around his neck, and as he leaned down in that same instant Kanda whispered:

"As you wish."

* * *

"You're kidding me… you said you would skip those parts!" the boy whined.

"Oh, but that first part was just too cute to skip."

"Well, skip the rest, because I don't want to hear it."

"Picky, picky. Fine. You're sick, and I promised. Now, Allen is seventeen and Kanda is about twenty when it happens."

"What?"

"They're set on being with each other forever, but Kanda won't rely on Allen's support, so…"

* * *

As summer died on Allen's seventeenth year, Kanda decided to leave.

"You're really doing this?" Allen asked, watching as Kanda hoisted his bag over his shoulder and made for the gate.

"Of course," Kanda replied in what should have been a brusque tone, but his voice wavered a little too much.

"I don't want you to leave," Allen stated, leaning against the fence next to the gate.

"I don't want to leave. But I refuse to let you take care of both of us, so I must go."

"Kanda…"

"I'm not _leaving_ you, stupid bean. I'll be back."

"…then why does it feel like I'll never see you again," Allen whispered, but it was the next word that made Kanda turn around. "Yuu?"

They fell into each other's arms after that, and though Kanda's grip was bordering painful, Allen relished it and clung to his love, clenching his fist into Kanda's shirt.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Kanda murmured into Allen's moonshine hair. "Weren't you the one who always read fairytales when we were kids? Didn't you learn _anything_?"

"We're not exactly a fairytale couple, you know."

"Look. Just…wait for me." Kanda began blushing here, and when Kanda blushed, something epic was about to be said. He dug his chin into the top of Allen's head and breathed, "I…love…you. Okay? So just wait, and I'll come back and we can leave this shitty town."

"Then I'll wait," Allen said, and took a step back. "I'll always wait for you, but that doesn't mean you can keep me waiting, stable boy! Now kiss me goodbye and go so you can come back the quicker!"

And Kanda did.

Life was not to be so sweet for Allen Walker in the time to come, for shortly after the departure of his love, Allen's world broke.

Mana Walker was killed by an out of control carriage. The death was instantaneous, and Allen never got a chance to say goodbye to his father. In fact, he never got to see the body. Too bloody for his eyes, people explained, but those explanations did more damage than good. Allen Walker was now alone. He had no family and no friends and his love was miles away, only God knew where. Well, he still had Tim, and that was something.

Allen completely severed himself from the town. He had everything he needed to live on the farm anyway- the only reason he'd been going to town before was for little things Mana required. But now that Mana was gone…

Allen spent his time in one of two ways: eating or riding. Eating was a great comfort, and Allen grew to have quite the appetite. Yet no food could fill the hole left in his heart, and so even after eating a large (_and when I say large, I mean enormous_) meal, the boy still felt empty.

Riding he adopted as a distraction from the pain. He became quite a proficient rider, and as Tim grew, he became quite a proficient horse.

Now after such distress and agony that Allen Walker went through, most people emerge with hollow cheeks and lifeless eyes, all pasty-looking and wispy-haired. Allen Walker, as you might have guessed, is not like most people.

No, for as the years went by, Allen Walker became even more beautiful. So beautiful (_almost androgynously depending on the angle_) that he may have surpassed all the most beautiful women and all the most handsome men at the time for the spot on the most beautiful list. And he was only yet eighteen.

His hair had always been the first thing people noticed, and now it was chin length and glossy and beautiful moonbeam white, shaggy bangs falling only just into his eyes and framing his face ever so nicely.

His eyes had neither been weakened nor reddened by sorrow; rather the sadness seemed to have _deepened _them, and if it hadn't been possible to drown in Allen Walker's eyes before, one could most certainly spend an eternity there now.

Thanks to all his hours spend out of doors, his skin had tanned just enough to give him a healthy glow, and any baby fat he ever had had long since disappeared. Lean, sinewy muscle took its place, and you could most definitely say that Allen Walker was the most handsome person anyone in Florin (_in all of England too, actually_) had ever seen.

Allen pieced himself together (_or perhaps I should use a sewing metaphor here, for you see his world didn't break entirely just yet- he still had Kanda to wait for, you know?)_ and got on with his life. At the end of his eighteenth year, he began to start reading and studying again, and even considered getting a proper job in London. He wouldn't let Kanda take care of him when he returned- their relationship had to be an equal one. Kanda would never let him live it down if it were otherwise.

When Allen celebrated his nineteenth birthday, he felt better enough to invite a few of the neighbors over, and had a small party. No one had actually seen Allen in close proximity since Mana's death, and he shocked them. Word of his beauty spread far and wide and mostly without his knowledge after that incident.

And then, when life appeared to get better, Allen Walker's world shattered. (_This time when I say shattered, I mean exploded into a thousand little pieces that then crumbled into dust._)

"Kanda is dead?" he repeated hollowly to the messenger.

"I'm afraid so, Mister Walker, sir," the messenger said, eyes flickering from the ground to Allen's face. "His ship was attacked by the Dread Pirate Crowley."

"The one who takes no prisoners," Allen whispered, and the messenger nodded.

"I am truly sorry."

Perhaps, the children from his youth were right. Perhaps Allen Walker was cursed.

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait."

"What is it now?" the man asked with a small sigh.

"Kanda dies?"

"I said that, didn't I?"

"That makes no sense."

"Why not? Humans are mortal—"

"But he's the hero, isn't he? Isn't he in love with Allen?"

"Love does not make you immortal."

"But-!"

"How about you let me finish the story and then we can debate this?"

"…fine."

The man smiled and began again.

"On the third year since Kanda left, and one year since news of his death, Allen was visited by a very interesting character."

* * *

"Prince Tyki Mikk," the royal guard proclaimed, "awaits you outside."

Allen blinked and followed the guard to the end of his driveway (_they didn't have cars back then, but this driveway was for carriages and what not_). There, arrayed in luxurious attire, was a tall, tan man with thick, curly brown hair and almost golden brown eyes. He (the Prince) dismounted from his black stallion and immediately took Allen's gloved hand in his, and kissed it.

"You are truly more stunning in person, Allen Walker," he smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. "You'll be perfect."

"I'm sorry, er, your highness, but what is all this about?" Allen asked, withdrawing his hand carefully. Tyki didn't let him, catching his fingers and holding them.

"My problem is this. My father is quite old, you see, and no one really expects him to live past the winter."

"That is a shame. I'm very sorry," Allen said, at once fully sympathetic. He even squeezed Tyki's hand.

"And his last desire is to see me married," Tyki continued. "So I look for a suitable bride."

"I'm afraid I can't help you there," Allen shook his head, "I'm rather a recluse myself. If you want names of eligible bachelorettes, I could direct you to my neighbor, Mister Bak Chan—"

"No, no, you misunderstand. I've already found one." Tyki's smile widened. "You, Allen Walker, are going to be my bride."

"Oh, isn't that nice—wait… _EHHH_?!"

* * *

A/N: Oh-ho-ho! And so concludes PART I. There shall be more... probably by next week. (For those of you who read Sugar Free, it's in the works, promise, it's just kind of stuck in a ditch at the moment. Don't worry, I called the Brute Squad to help me get it out. Lawl.)

Kanda was possibly a little OOC...sorry about that, but goddammit I wanted to write this story and write it I did, so neener! :P I hope he was enjoyable at least.

I tried to keep the writing style similar to that of the actual novel, hence the rambling/interruptions. Tell me if it worked, yes? It's quite a different way of writing than I'm used to...

Oh, and if anyone guesses who's telling the story, perhaps I'll do a chapter dedication or something? Lol, I don't know, is that even worth anything? xD

Review if you liked it~ reviews shall be used to dry my tears after the SAT... har-har-har... xD (I don't know if I'm joking or not.)


	2. Part II: The Boy Bride

Authors Note: Wow, I'm truly surprised at the amount of people who enjoyed this. I thought I'd get slaughtered for so ravaging a classic story. Haha... So here is part II, a couple days early thanks to all the love this fic has gotten.

A number of you have correctly guessed the storyteller's identity... and so the final chapter of this tale will be dedicated to you. I won't name you now, however, since that would ruin the fun (and suspense). :)

Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews. They are really what keep me writing. I hope you all enjoy this next installment as much as the first~

* * *

"He can't marry Tyki! I mean, he's not going to, right?" the boy exclaimed.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Why can't he?"

"Doesn't he still love Kanda?" the boy was blushing again, but still quite annoyed.

"Yes, but this is the Prince, you know."

"…then Allen's a liar."

"A liar? Those are some pretty harsh words. Why would you say that?"

"Kanda died only, what, like a year ago, and now Allen's going to marry this prince? I bet he didn't really love Kanda to begin with!"

"I fail to see why you're getting so uptight about all this, but if you want me to stop, I can."

"I didn't say that!"

"Very well. Then how about you keep the interruptions to a minimum, and just enjoy the story?"

"Fine."

"Now, Allen was in fact quite opposed to Prince Tyki's proposition…"

* * *

"I'm sorry, I cannot marry you," Allen said, roughly yanking his hand from Tyki's grasp.

"Why ever not?" Tyki asked, obviously confused.

"I have sworn never to love again," Allen explained softly. "I will never love you."

Tyki laughed. "Ha-ha-ha! You think that matters, do you? Oh, Allen, you grow more adorable by the second. How about we make a deal then."

"A deal?"

"Yes. I need a bride so that I can satisfy my father and become king. You will be that bride. In exchange, you will live a glorious life in the palace till the end of your days. You do not have to love me, and I do not love you. Why, you don't even have to look at me past the wedding if it displeases you. How does that sound?"

"Quite tolerable, actually. But I still don't think—"

"Allen Walker, I command you by Royal Order to agree with me. If not, I just might have to kill you. And I would hate to do that. You really are beautiful."

Allen swallowed.

"I'll think about it."

Prince Tyki gave but one day to Allen to consider his offer. Running away was hardly an option: the Prince was an excellent hunter, probably the best in the world. The consequences of being caught would be far worse than death.

So Allen sat for a long while in the stables, Tim by his side, thinking.

"Oh Tim," cried Allen. "What on earth do I do? If I don't marry the Prince, I'll die! And if I do marry him… well, I don't _love_ him…and Kanda…"

Tim made a huffing noise and nudged Allen's head.

"I know he's dead, Tim, but I still feel so vile for even considering this…"

Tim whined.

"Kanda wouldn't want me to die? Ha-ha, but would he say the same if he knew what I had to do to stay alive?"

Allen did not sleep or eat that day. He remained curled in the stables until Prince Tyki's guard came to fetch him the next morning. Allen gathered himself, dusted the hay off his clothes and prepared to give his answer.

"I do not love you," he restated, "and I never will. But…I will marry you."

Allen's heart (_what was left of it_) broke as he spoke those words; and as Prince Tyki smiled in front of him, jumped off his horse to clasp his hands, Allen was imagining Kanda's face, imagining that voice so hurt, so angry, imagining those eyes looking at him asking _what have you done_…

"Allen, darling, why ever are you crying?" Tyki asked, surprised. "I'm not all that bad, promise."

"S-Sorry," Allen wiped his tears with his sleeve. "I just… I'm a horrible person…I…"

"Well, at least you've got a pretty face. Don't ruin it with tears, now." Tyki patted his head. "I'll come for you in the morning."

That night was the worst night in Allen's life since Kanda's death. (_You wouldn't believe how many tears are in a pair of truly devastated human eyes._) When Tyki arrived in the morn, Allen's liquid silver eyes looked more like faded steel. The difference, you might think, was minor- but even Prince Tyki, who was for the most part blinded by the perfection in Allen's features, noticed something was different.

"Slept badly, did you?" he asked casually as a guard draped a cloak of deep blue velvet over Allen's shoulders.

"Why do you ask?" Allen's voice was feather-light, almost as though something had sucked the air out of his lungs a moment before he spoke.

"Your eyes," Tyki explained, staring deep into his bride-to-be's face, "are rather tired looking. Do take care to sleep well at the palace. Wouldn't want you to look anything less than perfect for the wedding, you know."

"Of course not," Allen agreed tonelessly.

Prince Tyki placed two hands on Allen's waist and lifted him to sit at the front of the saddle on the black stallion. Tyki held the reins on either side of Allen's small frame and leaned in close so that Allen's back was right against the Prince's chest.

"It's not an awfully long ride, but do speak up if you're at all uncomfortable," Prince Tyki was suave and all lust as he whispered the words in Allen's ear.

"Of course," Allen agreed, closing his eyes as he felt Tyki's warm breath on his neck. Tyki smelled of elegance, of power, of expensive musk and silk.

Allen held his breath and kept his eyes closed and remembered a time when the arms that held him were not clothed in fine muslin, but in dry cotton…when long, black hair got tangled up in his questing fingers…when everything around him smelled like sweat and earth and spice…

He hoped Kanda would forgive him.

The assembly that met Allen Walker at the palace was nothing short of extravagant, breathtaking and suffocating. Everyone was decked in rich linen: the women in flowing gowns encrusted with jewels, the men in all their knightly splendor. Allen felt incredibly out of place; the velvet cloak he had been given was the only thing that seemed to belong. He wrapped it tighter around himself and willed the floor to swallow him (_what a clever use of foreshadowing here, because later—ah, I'm getting ahead of myself, sorry)_.

Tyki's arm snaked around his waist and chained him to reality. The Prince was completely at ease among the nobility, and Allen found it just the slightest bit strange that no one appeared to have an opposition to his being a _boy_ bride.

And then he caught the fiery, furious eyes of one young woman at the same time Tyki saw them as well. Silently, the Prince held the woman's gaze until her eyes were terror-filled and teary. She ran off stumbling.

It would seem no one questioned Tyki for a reason.

"Tyki," a high-pitched voice called through the crowd, "I've been dying to meet this Allen of yours. Where is he?"

The sea of people parted as a petite young woman in a lacy white frock made her entrance. Her hair was a peculiar shade of black – almost purple – and she wore it in short spikes. Her dress too was short, about knee-length, and so she would have stood out from the others even without the delicate golden crown she wore atop her head.

"Rhode, I figured you would be the first. Allen, this is my cousin, Princess Rhode Camelot."

"Camelot?" Allen repeated. "As in the family who has ruled for the past decade?"

Rhode giggled and offered Allen a dainty hand.

"The very same. I'm the only heir left in that line though. My father is ill and I am too young to replace him, so Tyki gets the burden instead. Which is most agreeable with me; ruling was never a desire of mine." She smiled and patted Allen's cheek. "Enough about me. You're so pretty, Allen," she cooed. "Tyki was raving about your beauty for the last few days, but I thought he was exaggerating as usual…obviously not," Rhode laughed. "What a catch. How _ever_ did you get him to consent, Tyki?"

"I have my ways," Tyki said easily, putting his hands on Allen's shoulders and maneuvering him away. "We shall see you at dinner, Rhode, Allen has to meet everyone else too, you know."

"Oh, what a _bother_. Goodbye Allen," she waved, and Allen waved back despite the uneasiness in his stomach. A strange girl, for sure.

"You two are close," he commented after Tyki and he were out of the entrance hall.

"You noticed?"

"It's a bit obvious."

"You're more than a bit sharp. Come, it's time to meet the King."

"Your uncle?"

"Unfortunately." Tyki led him past two great oak doors and into what Allen assumed was the throne room. There, at the end of the plush carpet, in a throne wrought entirely of gold, sat the old king.

"King Cyril, I've brought my bride-to-be," the Prince announced. "Allen Walker."

"Quite a looker ain't he?" King Cyril declared after a moment of scrutiny. "How you managed to catch such a pretty little bird is beyond me!" He chuckled before lapsing into a coughing fit.

Tyki rolled his eyes.

"You and your daughter are disturbingly alike, Uncle."

"_Oh_, you met my darling Rhode then, did you?" Cyril was suddenly full of life. He lunged forward and held Allen's hands. "Isn't she marvelous?"

"Y-Yes, quite," Allen answered, mildly fearful.

Tyki pulled Allen away, and for once Allen was thankful for the Prince's presence.

"Calm down Uncle, you don't want to exert your heart more than necessary. It has only a pittance of beats left, why waste them?"

They left the throne room with Cyril still chortling behind them. Tyki led Allen through a maze of hallways and passages, stopping in the middle of one for no apparent reason. A moment later, somehow having escaped Allen's eyes, a burly man emerged from the shadows as though he were made of naught but darkness and air.

"Ah, Count Boric," Tyki greeted. "How goes the keeping of the Zoo?"

"Well," was the curt answer.

"You have a zoo?" Allen queried.

"Not the kind you're thinking of, darling," Tyki grinned. "I use it for hunting purposes."

Count Boric grunted and Tyki's expression changed slightly to a shady kind of mysterious.

"Come along then Allen, I'll take you to your quarters so you can rest. Count Boric and I have matters to discuss. I shall send Rhode to summon you for dinner."

And what else could Allen say but a quiet, "Yes."

* * *

"This is almost depressing. I thought fairytales were supposed to be happy?" the boy complained.

"You haven't read any by the Brothers Grimm, have you?" the man asked with a chuckle.

"I don't like Tyki."

"Really? How interesting. And do you still hate Allen too?"

"…I never said I _hated_ him. But I still think he's a jerk."

"Hmm. You know what I think?"

"What?"

"That you should zip it and let me finish."

"I hope it gets better," the boy grumbled.

"Only one way to find out," replied the man. "Tyki left Allen in his quarters, which though luxurious, were very different from home. Allen never got used to them, even after much time had passed."

* * *

A year had gone by since Allen's engagement to the Prince, and now a date for the wedding was finally set. One month- Allen had one month of living left.

For you see, the guilt had so eaten away at poor, beautiful Allen's soul that he was quite prepared to commit the sin of suicide after the wedding.

Unbeknownst to him, however, was a deceitful plan with similar results concocted by Count Boric and the Prince himself…

Perhaps now would be an apt time to discuss the Precipice of War that the families of Camelot-Mikk and Cross-Theodore teetered over. All in merry England, these four families (_well, two if you count the fact that they're related_) had battled for land since the first Roman roads were built. Over the decade in which the Camelot's, the more diplomatic side of the family, had ruled, a truce, however uneasy, had been reached betwixt the families. The Cross's and Theodore's had control over the northern lands, which somewhat satisfied them, but the peasants of bordering towns and counties grew restless. Prince Tyki Mikk too, grew tired of the peace. It would not take much to start a war.

A tragic tale, he and his faithful if slow, Count composed: the bride of the beloved Prince, kidnapped and killed by the Cross family barbarians from the north. It would engender fury, violence, hatred, a thirst for revenge…

And he, the noble, heartbroken Prince would be at the frontal assault. He would deal the ending blow to that infuriatingly stuck up Marian Cross who dared taunt him…would run him through with his blade, laugh at his dying scream and then rule over the entire country with an iron fist…

Oh, and he'd shed a few tears for propriety's sake too, of course.

Two plans were thus formulated…but which would come to pass? Either way it seemed that poor, cursed Allen Walker was doomed to die.

* * *

"Allen's not really going to die, is he?"

The man resisted the urge to laugh. "I thought you said he was a jerk?"

"Yeah, but he's the only hero left in the story, so he can't die."

"Your logic is quite flawed. I'd suggest you work on that. I recommend some of the Greek philosophers."

"This is a fairytale, logic doesn't apply- that's what _you_ told me." The boy retorted.

"Touché. But didn't I also tell you that this one is very real?"

"You can't expect me to believe this happened, right? The families in England were the Tudors, the—"

"If you'd like me to switch to a biography on Henry VIII, I can."

"Don't put words in my mouth, jeez! I was just asking if Allen was going to die! Can't you give me a simple answer?"

"How about I keep on going instead?"

"Ugh, _fine_."

"Now, let's talk about Allen some, shall we? Since you seem so interested in his fate."

* * *

Were it not for the sorrow that constantly gnawed at his heart, life in the palace may have been enjoyable to Allen. For example, should he have woken up to Kanda's grumpy pout in the morning over breakfast, or better yet, woken up in Kanda's arms…or say, had Kanda been the one he took customary morning walks with, had tea time with, sank into the covers with after dinner… life would have been quite peachy.

Allen had requested (_required, more like_) that Tim be allowed to accompany him, and as he was the darling bride of a dear Prince, any wish of his was hardly to be denied. So Allen was free to take his usual ride in the mornings, afternoons, and if he could get away in the evenings, then too (_any time away from the palace was desirable to Allen, you see; he wasn't much fond of the royal family, and Tyki reminded him too much of things he didn't want to acknowledge_). He was very habitual about these rides: he left at precisely nine o'clock after breakfast, returned at half past twelve for lunch, left again at ten minutes past three and returned at five o'clock sharp, and perhaps went for a quick canter around the grounds at seven thirty.

The ride usually consisted of a trot about the circumference of the castle, and then further out into the open fields and pastures in the surrounding land before merging onto woody trails that weaved within the outskirts of the palace grounds and the bordering town. These trails were followed by a decent sized river that led to a rather large one; and this river happened to lead straight into the heart of the land controlled by the Duke Marian Cross.

Allen, of course, cared hardly at all for the angst and squabble of the relationship between families of importance; besides, from what he knew of Cross, he was almost _happier_ to be living with the Camelots.

Another interesting thing of this river: it was infested with strange, vicious creatures known to the populace as _Shrieking Eels_. I assure you the name is quite fitting, and should induce the proper amount of horror. These eels do in fact shriek, especially at the scent of blood, and it so happens that they are quite fond of human blood. (_It's very sweet, apparently, with all the glucose._)

Now, I mention this river with purpose, for it was by this river that Allen Walker was riding past when a strange group of people stopped him.

"Is something the matter?" the beautiful boy asked, slowing Tim to a halt before a tall, thin woman with blonde hair streaked unevenly with black, who was accompanied by a dark-skinned, bald giant and a hooded, shorter man with messy brown hair, strange purple markings beneath his eyes, and a large nose.

"Might I ask how far the nearest village is?" the blonde asked in a voice that plainly indicated 'she' was in actuality a man.

"There's none for miles," Allen replied honestly.

"How convenient. That means no one will hear you scream." His face broke into a positively wicked smirk.

Before Allen could open his mouth to say anything, let alone scream, the giant's hand was around his temple and his vision went black.

* * *

A/N: Quick note about this chapter... I think I use more repetition of words here than in the previous one... that is intentional, because I've noticed fairytales tend to repeat adjectives a lot when describing the same character. Tell me if it gets annoying though, yeah?

So here's a pretty gimme question: who are the fab three? xD I tried to make it obvious so it's not too much of a cliffhanger.

The next chapter will most likely be my favorite as it introduces a favorite character... those of you who have read the book/watched the movie know who I'm talking about. :)

Thank you once again for all the lovely reviews, they are so inspiring. I'm honored to have such wonderful people read this crap. :3 Feel free to review again, har-har-shameless-har-har.


	3. Part III: The Man in Black

Authors Note: This chapter's dialogue contains a healthy dose of movie lines, so if it sounds too awesome to be written by me, it probably wasn't written by me. Ehe.

Now, to reveal the mysterious three captors... most people got two of three right. Amethyst Amore and Abreaction (on the second guess, hehe), CONGRATS for getting it all right.

Enjoy!

* * *

Allen Walker next awoke to find himself on a small ship. He whipped his head around to survey his surroundings, but doing so caused a wave of dizziness to overcome him. When he next looked up, he met the eyes of the tall, blonde young man, who was chuckling to himself.

"You drugged me," Allen accused incredulously.

"Naturally," the man replied, sauntering over to squat before Allen. "Were you the average thin-boned princess, we might have merely tied you up, but do not think me so blind as to miss your strength. I do not doubt that you are stronger than I, and thus took precautions. You cannot move at present, and I do not recommend testing that."He snickered. "Unless you'd like to look even more of a fool, _heehee_."

"I'll take your word for it then," Allen snapped. "Would you at least tell me who my captors are?"

The man stood and bowed low at the waist with a flourish. "Jasdevi Noah, the most brilliant strategist and trickster in the land. Surely you've heard of me," he introduced with a smug grin.

"Not at all," replied Allen cheekily, but it was a lie. He'd heard of Jasdevi; the young man was infamous for starting bar fights to full out clashes against noble families, and he did it all while escaping the authorities. Rumors were that he now worked only for cash, and for a lot of it at that. Allen surmised that somebody had paid Jasdevi to kidnap him…someone extremely wealthy. But for what purpose?

"Marie, look after the prisoner," Jasdevi ordered the dark-skinned giant. "Daisya, stop day-dreaming!"

"I ain't day-dreaming, Jasdevi," the hooded one called Daisya whined, "I'm just wondering why we have to sail all the way up to the north. It's such a _pain_."

"I told you, moron! We take the kid up into Cross territory, kill him, dump him there, and then start a war!"

"I didn't know we had to kill him," Marie spoke in a slow, deep voice as he moved to sit beside Allen. "I don't like that."

"Yeah," Daisya agreed. "You didn't say anything about killing, Jasdevi."

Jasdevi groaned in annoyance. "It's a goddamn war, I thought it was obvious that there would be _killing _involved. But since you two are a bunch of _pansies_, Iwill do the killing, so keep your panties on!" he shrieked. "But remember your place, both of you! Daisya – remember where you were before I came along? Poor and drunk and homeless in Barcelona! And _you_," he whirled to face Marie. "You were an outcast and a freak in that village in France, living off scraps. Unless you want to go back to that place, you two better shape up!"

"He's rather tense, isn't he?" Allen whispered to the giant.

"He's always like this on missions, you see," Marie replied with a furtive smile.

"That's quite a shame. I'm sorry."

"You're good at this rhyming game, I believe."

"This is a game? I didn't know."

"It is, and I'm somewhat of a pro."

"Stop that," yelled Jasdevi, hands on his hips, "you know I hate it when you rhyme!"

"He says that every time," Marie whispered.

"_Stop_ _it_!"

Allen would have liked to keep up the bantering as it so irritated his captor, but Marie fell into obedient silence and the drugs messing with the boy bride's head didn't allow him to stay awake much longer. He succumbed to the drowsiness eating away at his consciousness and let Marie shift him into a sleeping position on the deck. It certainly wasn't his goose feather bed at the castle, but Allen was suddenly so _sleepy_ that he fell asleep instantly.

It was only when Daisya and Jasdevi began arguing loudly that Allen opened his eyes again, and by then time had passed so that it was well past nightfall. Marie was holding a lantern, and there was one beside Daisya, but apart from that they were blanketed in darkness. The moon above provided only minimal light, and for the first time since his capture, Allen felt quite afraid.

"Would you stop looking back all the time," Jasdevi was shouting, "it's so goddamn annoying."

"But what if there's someone following us?" Daisya asked, glancing over his shoulder again.

"Inconceivable," Jasdevi stated simply. "Who in London would know of what we've done, and no one in the north knows of what we will do."

"…okay, but…"

"But _what_?"

"I'm just wondering then, why there's a ship behind us?"

Jasdevi jumped to his feet and dashed over to the side of the ship. He gaped and spluttered. "Inconceivable!" Shaking his head, he ran a hand through his long blonde hair. "No, no, I'm right. He's not following us. He's probably just some fisherman out a little early."

"…at midnight?" Daisya queried disbelievingly.

"It's entirely plausible," snapped Jasdevi. "In any case, leave the thinking to me, you dullard. Just keep us on course for the Cliffs and we'll be fine."

"So we are going to the Cliffs then?" Marie spoke.

"Obviously," Jasdevi scoffed. "This river has a branch that leads to the ocean, as all rivers do, and from there we can enter the bay that will take us straight to the heart of the north. It's a shortcut as opposed to following the river all the way, which would take days. We should reach the Cliffs at the bay by daylight."

Cliffs? Heart of the north? Allen didn't like the sound of all this plotting, and so whilst his captors discussed their plan, Allen willed himself to move and overcome the effects of the drugs. He managed to stumble over to the side of the ship before being noticed, and as Jasdevi screamed _get him_, Allen flung himself overboard and began to swim.

"You fool!" Jasdevi called after him. "Don't you know anything? This river is home to the shrieking eels! If you don't want to die a horribly painful death, swim back now!"

Allen would have opened his mouth to respond with an _I don't believe you_, but that was when he felt something slimy brush against his leg, and the telltale high pitched hissing as the waters around him swirled unnaturally. A fin breached the top of the water and Allen could see the first flashes of a long, thick tail. Then the shrieking began.

"Come back and I won't hurt you," Jasdevi offered. "I doubt you'll get such a proposition from the eels."

But Allen couldn't speak, for just after Jasdevi had thus spoken, an eel with its vicious jaws wide open lunged out of the water towards him, and its teeth were perhaps as large as Allen's entire _face_… its breath was putrid, and Allen couldn't move—

* * *

"But he doesn't die."

The boy blinked. "What?"

"I'm telling you, Allen doesn't die here."The man clarified almost soothingly.

"I figured," said the boy in a huff.

"Okay. I just thought you'd like to know, since you were getting so upset about it."

"I wasn't upset! Just…curious. Keep going."

The man shrugged. "Alright. So, as I said, Allen doesn't die, because Marie reached out with his large hands and pulled him from the water at the right time."

* * *

Spluttering on deck, Allen shivered and coughed, his heartbeat still racing from his near death encounter. Marie handed him a blanket and he took it gratefully. Jasdevi leered at him, arms crossed.

"You're quite a handful, highness," he drawled. "I may have to give you another dose of tranquilizers if you don't settle down."

Allen wanted to reply, truly he did; he had a cheeky comeback and everything, but all he could manage was a chattering of his teeth and deep uneven breaths.

"Rest, highness." Jasdevi smiled dryly and nodded to Marie, who hesitantly bound Allen's hands and feet with thick rope.

Morning brought the kidnappers and their kidnapped bride to the aptly named Cliffs of Insanity. Allen gaped in horror and awe at the sheer rock face that awaited them. It was truly vertical, and as Daisya helped him off the ship and onto the rocky shore below the cliff, Allen stared up and could not see any possible means of getting up there. Well, there was a long, thick rope hanging down from presumably the top, but if they expected him to climb it, they were sorely mistaken.

They _were_ going to climb, apparently, though not as Allen figured. Jasdevi grabbed a harness from the ship and instructed Marie to put it on. Daisya placed Allen in one of the side-harnesses attached to the larger one before helping Jasdevi into another one and climbing on himself. Thus it came to pass that somehow, defying all laws of physics and nature and sanity, Marie began climbing the cliff using naught but the convenient rope and the strength of his massive arms.

"_Santa Maria_," Daisya exclaimed suddenly. "Jasdevi, look!"

"What? What?" Jasdevi craned his neck to look outwards at the bay.

"It's that same ship from before! I thought we lost him, but he actually caught up!"

"Ha, it doesn't matter now! He won't be able to climb up this way- he'll have to go look for the harbor that's miles away!" Jasdevi cackled.

It was about ten minutes later when Daisya exclaimed:

"Jasdevi, he's climbing up the rope!"

Allen looked down (a mistake on his part, because a wave of nausea rolled over him after doing so) to see a man clothed entirely in black, with a black mask covering his head and the part of his face above his nose. How strange. Was this man someone else who desired him dead or otherwise?

"He's gaining on us," Daisya said in awe. "What strength!"

"Marie, you useless buffoon, go faster!" Jasdevi commanded.

"I thought I was going faster…"

"I hired you for a reason, you worthless giant!"

"To be fair, I'm carrying three people and he only has himself," Marie commented, but did attempt to speed up his pace.

By the time they crawled up over the cliff face and Daisya pulled Allen to solid ground, the man in black was nearly upon them.

Jasdevi ran to the rock where the rope was tied and hacked away at it with a knife he produced from a pocket. A few swipes later and the rope ripped and fell off the side. They all (_minus Allen- his feet were still bound_) looked over the side and Jasdevi swore.

"Inconceivable!" he cried.

"I can't believe he managed to hold on…" Daisya murmured.

"Ugh, enough of this. Daisya, kill him. If he falls first, then that's fine. Marie, take the kid and let's go," Jasdevi ordered.

"You take care, Daisya," Marie said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "People in masks can't be trusted."

"It's alright Marie, I'm not about to get bested," Daisya replied with confidence.

Marie smiled, hoisted Allen over his shoulder and followed Jasdevi away from the cliffs and into the grassy pathways that led into the countryside.

Daisya whistled, pulled out his sword (_a beautiful thing that seemed more a piece of art than a weapon_) and twirled it in his left hand (_he didn't want the battle to be over too quickly_). He looked over the side of the cliff again to view any progress the man in black had made.

"Hello!" he called with a wave. "How goes the climb? Can you go any faster, do you think?"

The man in black looked up at him with annoyance etched plainly into his features.

"You know, this isn't as much of a walk in the park as I make it look," came the wry reply. "If you'd shut the fuck up, it'd be helpful, thanks."

"Righto."

Daisya occupied himself with more practice for all of two minutes before he peered over again.

"Are you sure you're going as fast as you can?"

"You know, instead of being such a goddamn blabbermouth, if you want to do something useful such as find me a rope, it sure would speed things up."

"Oh, a rope, I can do that! I have one here. But would you trust me, since I kind of have to kill you when you get up here?"

"That does put a damper on our relationship," the man in black replied with a roll of his eyes. "You'll just have to wait."

"How about if I swear I won't hurt you?"

"You're a Spaniard aren't you?" the man in black asked, staring up at Daisya. "I've known too many goddamn Spaniards."

"…I swear on the soul of my father, you will reach the top alive."

The man in black stopped for a moment before grumbling: "Toss me the rope."

Daisya pulled the man up with little difficulty. The man in black immediately drew his sword (not the usual fencing type, Daisya noted, but something that looked more like a katana), but Daisya put up his hands and motioned for the man to sit.

"Catch your breath. We can wait until you're ready."

The man looked highly suspicious and did not sheathe his sword even as he leaned against a rock. "Don't try anything funny or I'll—"

"No funny business, promise. Swordsman's honor," Daisya beamed. "That's quite a sword you've got there," he said after a moment.

"It's not your typical sword," the man replied. His eyes turned to the weapon in Daisya's hands. "You've got a decent one yourself."

Daisya held the sword out for the man to weigh. It was long and slender steel thing, with an intricately designed hilt that had a small silver chain with a silver bell on the end. The man nodded appreciatively and gave it back.

"My father was a master sword maker," Daisya explained. "By the way, you wouldn't happen to have six fingers on your right hand, would you?" The man raised an eyebrow and raised his hand to reveal five fingers.

"Do you always start conversations that way?"

"My father was killed by a man with six fingers. My father made this sword for him, but when the man returned for it, he offered to pay not even one tenth of the original price. My father refused, and the six-fingered man killed him. He gave me two scars, here," he motioned under his eyes to the purple markings, "which is why I have these tattoos, to forever remind me. I vowed on my father's grave that I would find the six-fingered man and kill him. I'll go up to him and say: Hello, my name is Daisya Barry. You killed my father. Prepare to die." Daisya sighed. "But, you know, it's been twenty years, so I've almost given up."

"Hn."

The man in black did not rest much longer. He pointed his sword at Daisya's face, slipped into a stance and waited.

"All ready?" Daisya asked, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. It had been so long since he'd dueled someone worthy… he hoped the man in black was as good as he appeared.

"Enough talking. Let's go," the man snapped with another roll of his dark eyes. Daisya grinned and they clashed.

The man in black was using his left hand as well, Daisya noted, and it was probably his dominant one for his strikes were easily pushing Daisya closer towards the edge of the cliff.

"You are wonderful," Daisya exclaimed with glee as the man blocked another of his attacks and quickly countered with one of his own.

"No shit," the man replied. "I've trained hard to become so." He ducked to avoid Daisya's swipe at his neck. "You're not too bad yourself," he acknowledged with a nod of his head.

"Why thank you," Daisya smiled, even as the man forced him to retreat closer to the edge. "But you are better than I."

"So why are you smiling?"

"Because I know something you don't know." The man raised an eyebrow and Daisya's grin widened. "I'm not left-handed." He deftly switched the sword to his right hand and now it was the man in black's turn to be pushed back. The man grunted in surprise and Daisya couldn't resist laughing in enjoyment as they fenced atop the rocks, until the man was slammed up against a boulder with Daisya's sword an inch from his throat.

"There's something you should know," he said, breathing hard.

"Oh? What's that?"

"I'm not left-handed either," the man smirked and as soon as the sword was in his right hand, he did some fancy maneuver and Daisya was without his weapon. He whipped around to discover his sword had been tossed far behind him. With a somewhat shaky back flip, Daisya landed beside his sword. The man in black then did a strange thing: he threw his own sword to pierce the ground a little ways from Daisya before doing a perfect flip himself, landing like a proper acrobat with one hand on the hilt of his sword. His smirk grew and as he pulled his sword from the ground, they began again.

"Truly, you are amazing," Daisya praised, wiping the sweat from his brow in the same instant he leaned away from the man's strike. "I must know: who are you?"

"No one of consequence," the man growled in reply, backing Daisya into a corner as he did so.

The battle was over in the next few seconds, or maybe it was minutes- either way it was over quite quickly. The man in black had terrifying speed with his blade, and when Daisya lost sight of the steel for but one moment, it was over. The man had flung Daisya's sword out of his hands for the second time with a flick of his own blade, and Daisya sunk to his knees.

"Kill me quickly," he murmured, defeated.

"Tch. Don't tell me what to do," the man in black grumbled. He walked around so he stood behind Daisya and sighed. "But it'll be a pain if you follow me, so…"

He clubbed Daisya on the back of his head with the hilt of his sword and Daisya Barry fell over, unconscious, but yet alive. The man in black made an annoyed noise for the wasted time before sprinting off in the direction Jasdevi, Marie and Allen had gone.

Jasdevi's expression upon seeing the blur of black running up the hillside after them was quite priceless I assure you; if only I could describe it properly, I'm sure you would be supremely amused. However, I must leave it to your own imaginations to come up with the face of utter surprise, shock, horror and disbelief that fell upon the young man's features.

"You!" He screamed at Marie. "Hide behind that rock and kill him when he comes." Jasdevi untied Allen's feet and tugged him along into the hills.

"That's not very sportsmanlike," Marie mumbled, but dutifully concealed himself. The man in black arrived not five minutes after Jasdevi and Allen had left, and Marie threw a carefully aimed rock. It smashed into a boulder right beside the man's head, and he startled and drew his sword.

"I didn't have to miss," Marie said, stepping out of his hiding place. The man narrowed his eyes and shifted his stance.

"I know. Why did you?" He asked evenly. Marie was pleased to see there was no fear in his eyes, only a cold calculating look. He didn't like when people begged or cried or did unseemly things.

"It wouldn't be very fair, if I hit you like that. This way we can have a civilized battle. Just you and me."

"By civilized you mean like idiots? As in, you drop the rock and I drop my sword and we fight like cavemen?"

"I think it's a better choice than the alternative. I could kill you now," he raised the rock and the man slowly placed his sword down. Marie let go of the rock and smiled. The man in black did not look so pleased.

"Tch."

They circled each other nice and slow, the man's eyes narrowed into slits that peered angrily from beneath his mask. With a shout, he abruptly lunged for Marie, tackling him, or at least attempting to do so. All that he in fact accomplished was wrapping his arms almost around the giant's middle in something of a bizarre hug. The man in black grumbled and leapt back, glare deepening.

He tried the same tactic once more, and this time when Marie made to grab him, he fell to the ground and rolled swiftly out of the way.

"You're quite fast," Marie noted as they resumed circling. Marie lunged and the man scurried back.

"You've got a rather unfair advantage," the man retorted, rolling between Marie's legs to stand behind him.

"Not my fault I'm the biggest and strongest," Marie replied with a shrug. This time he managed to grab the man, and threw him against one of the boulders. The man grunted in pain and began squirming. "Hey, why do you wear a mask?" Marie asked out of the blue. "Were you burned by acid or something?"

"Not exactly," the man rasped as Marie's hand made to tighten around his neck. He thrashed about enough so that he slipped through Marie's loosened hands, did an acrobatic stunt-like flip and landed behind the giant once more. This time, he clambered up onto Marie's back and wrapped his arms around the leviathan man's neck.

Marie quickly about faced and slammed his back (and consequently, the man in black) against a boulder. The man wheezed and coughed but his arms remained wound around Marie's neck.

"It's strange," Marie breathed. "Fighting just one man… I've…forgotten…" he was seeing spots now, and the man's arms were ever-tightening.

"Forgotten?" the man in black repeated in disbelief. "How the hell can you forget?"

"Well, I've fought…so many…in groups…and there's a different…style…of fighting…one on one…so…" Marie fell to his knees and turned sort of pinkish purple. "I guess…this…is…my…loss…"

Marie thudded to the ground and the man in black released his arms. He stood and surveyed the fallen giant for a moment before dusting himself off and grabbing his sword.

"I don't envy the headache you'll have when you wake, but I'll spare you so that we're even," the man murmured before chasing after Jasdevi and Allen once more.

* * *

"Any idea who the man in black is?" the storyteller asked with a smile.

"No… but he has to be some sort of sailor, because he followed them in a ship--"

"Many people at the time could use a boat, you know."

"He's strong too, and smart, since he knows all those fencing moves… but he's not from around, is he? Because you said his sword was like a katana…"

"Can't you buy katanas at the local Chinese store?"

"Yeah, but I thought you said this took place ages ago?"

"There always were, are and will be Chinese stores in any part of the globe at any given time," the man replied sagely.

The boy raised an eyebrow and sighed. "Stop stalling! Keep going if you're not going to tell me who the man in black is!"

"Very well. Now Jasdevi was not too much of an idiot, so he knew that if Daisya had been so quickly defeated, Marie would probably be done in as well. So he set up a picnic of sorts…"

* * *

When the man in black came over the hilltop, he was met with a strange sight. Upon a stump, Jasdevi had laid out a white tablecloth, a pitcher of wine and two silver goblets. His captive had been tied up and blindfolded. He sat before his spread, holding a knife to Allen Walker's pretty white throat.

"So you have defeated my swordsman and my giant," he said as the man entered the clearing. "But I wouldn't come any further if I were you." He motioned to the knife with his head.

The man didn't stop, but raised his arms.

"Look," he began, but Jasdevi interrupted.

"You want to steal something I rightfully stole, and I won't have it!" he yelled.

"I'll make you a deal," the man in black started again.

"You're killing him!" Jasdevi screeched, pushing the knife hard enough against Allen's skin that it drew a bit of blood. The man stopped.

"What now?" the man in black asked with a scowl.

"I am no match for you in skill or strength," Jasdevi said, "and you are no match for me in intelligence, so we are at an impasse. Unless you'd like to show some courtesy as a fellow villain and leave, so we may get on with things—"

"Shut the fuck up and listen," the man snapped. "A battle of wits."

"_Hee! _Between you and I?" Jasdevi asked, curious now. "To the death?"

The man in black nodded and Jasdevi grinned. He couldn't resist a challenge to his intelligence, an opportunity to prove himself. The man took a seat in front of Jasdevi and pointed to the wine.

After the wine was poured, the man took out a vial. He opened it and handed it to Jasdevi, instructing him to smell but not touch.

"Nothing, I smell nothing."

"What you do not smell is iocane powder. It is tasteless, odorless and dissolves completely in any liquid. It is also a deadly poison," the man explained. Thus saying, he took the goblets and the vial, held them behind his back, and put them back on the table after a moment. "Now you decide which glass has the poison in it. We both drink and then we see who is right," he smirked, "and who is dead."

"This is mere childs play," Jasdevi snorted.

"Then make your choice."

"_Hee_! I will, soon enough, and then you will be dead and I will become the greatest villain in history!"

"Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you?" The man in black raised an eyebrow. "You're still just a kid."

Jasdevi turned nearly pink with rage. "How dare you!" he spluttered in anger. "People always looking down on me because I'm not some old geezer with a hunchback and a balding head, shuffling around in a stuffy laboratory! I won't have it! I won't! I am a genius!"

"Your reaction hardly indicates your maturity," the man drawled, crossing his arms.

"Why you--! Bastard, I'll show you! You are no match for my brains! I guess I'll have to kill you for you to realize it!" Jasdevi was positively shaking with fury as the man's arrogant smirk widened.

"It sounds to me like you're stalling, brat."

"_Stalling_?" Jasdevi shrieked (_though it came out as more of a squeal_). "You should be thankful for it, because as soon as we drink, you die!"

"It does sound like you're stalling, you know," Allen Walker mumbled.

"Shut up!" Jasdevi jabbed the knife into Allen's neck and the boy winced when it broke the delicate skin. The man in black stiffened.

"If you're so sure, make your fucking choice," he snapped impatiently, narrowing his dark eyes.

"I will!" Jasdevi replied, reaching for his cup. He stopped halfway. "Now, observe my intellect and cower in fear! For all I must do is determine whether you are the sort of man to put the poison in his own cup or not. You are learned, because you defeated my swordsman and that takes years of training, so you would have studied. In studying, you learn that man is mortal, and thus you put death as far away from you as possible, so I cannot take my cup! But iocane is from Australia, which everyone knows is populated with criminals, and criminals are used to having people not trust them, as I do not trust you, so I cannot take your cup!"

"Get on with it," the man grumbled.

"I _will_, oh my god, what is that?!" Jasdevi gasped and pointed in front of him. The man in black whipped around.

"What? What's what?"

Jasdevi quickly switched the goblets before the man turned around.

"What's so funny?" the man asked, suspicious of Jasdevi's smile.

"Absolutely nothing. I guess whatever I saw was a figment of my imagination. Shall we drink, then? I from my cup, you from yours."

They drank.

The man smiled.

"You guessed wrong."

Jasdevi burst out laughing. "You only _think _that I did! I switched the cups when you weren't looking! That's what's so funny!"

The man in black stared.

"What's the matter? Speechless? Because I outsmarted you? Because I am the winner? Because you will—"

But we will never hear what Jasdevi said the man would do (_though we can safely assume his last word would have been 'die', rather ironic really_) for he collapsed in a dead heap in the next instant.

The man moved swiftly, jumping over the table and removing the blindfold from Allen's eyes.

Allen Walker opened his eyes and gazed into the face of his savior. Deep, dark eyes met April rain gray and they stared at each other for a long minute.

"Who are you?" Allen breathed as a strange feeling came over him. Perhaps it was fear, perhaps something else.

The man made an annoyed sound and untied the ropes binding Allen's hands. "No one of consequence," he replied in a low voice. Allen frowned and looked over at Jasdevi's still form.

"To think, it was in your cup the whole time," he mused as the man in black helped him to his feet.

"They were both poisoned," the man corrected, holding one of Allen's hands as he pulled him along. "I have a natural resistance to iocane."

Allen's mouth formed an 'o' but he could not say anything else for the man had started running and it was all Allen could do to keep up.

But now we must turn our attention away from Allen Walker and the man in black, for someone else had arrived upon the Cliffs of Insanity…

Prince Tyki was quite upset as he mounted his horse.

"My bride has definitely been kidnapped by the villainous Cross family," he declared to the seven soldiers he'd brought to investigate as soon as he 'discovered' that his bride was missing. "Allen is yet alive, though…and if he is anything but when I find him, I shall be most put out."

Count Boric (_who accompanied the Prince everywhere; of loyalty or lack of anything better to do, we do not know_) grunted. "Which way?"

"Into the heart of Cross territory," the Prince said. "Come, we must hurry!"

So saying, the Prince, the Count and their band of soldiers rode off in search of Allen.

Allen Walker was of course alive, though quite tired. The man released him and the boy bride leaned against a rock, panting.

"Catch your breath, _highness_," the man said the title as though it burned his tongue.

"If you let me go, you may have anything you want," Allen said. "The Prince—"

"Hah, you think your dearest love will save you?" the man asked scathingly.

"I never said he was my dearest love," Allen shot back. "But yes, he will. He's the best tracker in the world. He'll find you."

"You don't love your fiancé? And you admit it freely," the man raised an eyebrow. "What a strange bride."

"He knows I do not love him," Allen replied.

"Are not capable of love more like."

"How dare you! I have loved more deeply than a bloody murderer like yourself could _ever—_"

The man in black slapped him across the face.

"There are penalties for lying, _highness_. The next time I raise my hand I won't take care to be so gentle." He grabbed Allen's wrist and they began running again.

The next time they stopped was atop a great hill, aside a steep sloping ravine.

"Rest," the man ordered. "But not for long. Your damn _Prince_ is gaining."

Allen's eyes widened and he turned to look behind him. Sure enough, in the distance, he could make out the royal banner and a group of horses and men.

"I know who you are," Allen spoke quietly when he faced the man in black again. "Your cruelty reveals you. You're the Dread Pirate Crowley, admit it!"

"With pride," the man bowed with a smirk. "What can I do for you, highness?"

"You can die slowly, cut into a thousand bleeding pieces," Allen hissed.

"Hardly complimentary," the man shook his head. "Why so venomous?"

"You killed my love," Allen said, voice rough.

"I kill a lot of people," the man admitted with a shrug. "Who was this love of yours? Another rich bastard?"

"No," Allen snapped. "A farm boy. Poor and perfect. His name was Kanda," Allen's eyes visibly softened at the mere utterance of his love's name, but they hardened to steel when they looked back at the man. "Though I don't know if you're human enough to ask a person's name before you slaughter them."

"I remember a Kanda," the man said after a moment. "Quite a character. Didn't barter or cower or anything, just said: goddammit, I need to live. Please."

Allen's eyes grew large and perhaps a bit watery.

"That please caught my attention, so I asked him why he wanted to live so badly," the man locked eyes with Allen. "Love, he said."

Allen looked away first and the man continued. "I can only assume he meant you. You should be glad I killed him, highness. It's a good thing he didn't see what his _love_ has done."

"And what have I done?" Allen cried, standing.

"Love, he said, highness, _true love_. Now tell me, did you get married as soon as you heard or did you wait a week out of respect for the dead?" the man yelled. Allen's eyes narrowed to slits.

"How dare you. I _died _that day!"

The sudden sound of horses drew the man's gaze to the hills behind them, and Allen took his chance.

"You can die too for all I care," he growled, and pushed the man in black off the side of the hill.

The man in black fell, rolled all the way down and Allen looked on in grim satisfaction, until he heard the man's voice, calling:

"_Goddammit beansprout!_"

And it was so familiar, suddenly it was so clear who was behind the mask that Allen mentally berated himself for not seeing it before… he knew, he knew who it was now, even before the mask that covered the man in black's face ripped away and long, dark hair spilled out onto the ground… Allen Walker knew, at that moment, that Kanda was not dead… his love was alive, and sprawled out on the grassy bottom of the ravine…

"Oh my god," Allen gasped. "What have I done?"

* * *

A/N: So this is the first time I've written such a long chapter, so please tell me if you spot any typos and what not. :)

I condensed the battles a bit because I can't write fight scenes very well and because frankly, they're not the point of the story. And now we're getting to my favorite parts! (I admit, I was rushing to get to the end because I wanted to write the Kanda/Allen scenes.)

And how many people (who haven't read the book/seen the movie) guessed who the man in black was correctly? Be honest now... ;P

Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! Reviews really make my day and hearing that so many people enjoyed this and think I have done this wonderful story justice gives my little author's heart wings. xD


	4. Part IV: The Fire Swamp

Authors Note: I actually started writing in hopes of updating Ace of Cakes, but this story came out instead. Ha-ha...

Thanks so much for all the reviews, everyone! I'm glad you all liked the last chapter!

This one is quite exciting if I say so myself. ;D And a bit fluffy too, but just a bit.

* * *

As Allen squinted down, he could make out Kanda speaking, though the words were lost for the distance. Allen steeled his expression.

"I'm coming, Kanda!" he called, before taking one step forward and toppling over, mimicking the journey his love had taken a few moments before.

Squeaking and grunting in pain as he rolled downwards, Allen landed in a messy heap. He winced and held his eyes closed for a moment to combat the wave of dizziness and nausea. When he opened his eyes again, Kanda had moved above him. Very gently, he cradled Allen in his arms, frowning.

"…idiot bean. Are you hurt?" he murmured, checking over Allen's face.

"Who cares about that, you're alive!" Allen cried, wrapping his arms around his love's neck and pulling him into a tight hug.

Kanda stiffened and pulled away, pinching Allen's cheek hard enough to make the boy wince.

"Why the hell didn't you wait for me?" Kanda asked in a voice made raspy by his restraint. "I _told_ you I'd come back."

Allen pushed Kanda's hand away from his face and pouted. "You were _dead_," he replied. "What was I to do? The Prince said he'd kill me if I didn't—"

"Enough, I don't want to hear about that bastard," Kanda cut him off and helped him to his feet. "But you should know better, beansprout," he continued. "Tch, as if something like that could stop me."

Allen rolled his eyes playfully. "I'll remember that for next time."

Kanda took his hand as they started walking, looked Allen straight in his April rain eyes and said quite seriously: "There won't be a next time."

Drawing in a breath, Allen stopped in his tracks. Kanda looked at him in question, blinking as the boy's eyes grew glassy with unshed tears. Allen bit his lip as though to hold back a smile too large for his petite face.

"What is it, bean?"

"…I still love you, Yuu Kanda," he said softly. Kanda flushed red and looked away.

"What the hell caused that outburst?" He asked, clearly embarrassed. His next words were murmured low enough that Allen almost missed them. "Anyway, I know that."

Releasing his wrist from Kanda's grip, Allen cupped his love's cheeks with both hands, turned his head so they were face to face, and kissed him squarely on the lips.

* * *

"So Kanda was alive!" the boy cried. "You lied when you said he died!" he reached over to whack the older man on the arm.

"Ouch! Hey, hey, I was just telling the story as it was told to me. I felt you could get a better understanding for Allen that way," the story teller reasoned.

"I get it. Anyway, if this is going to be a kissy scene, skip it, would you?" the boy ordered, making a face.

The older man sighed. "Such a shame, you're missing out on a lot of good stuff."

"Uh-huh. Just keep going."

"Now, Kanda had originally intended a different route, but thanks to Allen, they would have to go through the dreaded Fire Swamp."

* * *

"What were you saying to me as you fell, by the way?" Allen asked.

Kanda sighed in mild annoyance. "I was telling you _whatever you do, stay up there_."

A pout claimed Allen's features again. "Were you planning on leaving me there, then? Ass."

"No, you idiot," Kanda scowled. "I could have gotten back up the ravine on my own and we could've been on our merry way, but thanks to you flinging yourself off the side to join me, we're stuck going this route. I can't take care of you and climb up, you know."

"How rude!" Allen sniffed, "I'm not a weakling, you know."

"Sure, bean," Kanda smirked, "but climbing up a ravine isn't something someone who failed at climbing trees in his childhood should attempt."

Allen turned a shade pink and quickly changed the subject.

"So where are we going now?"

"The Fire Swamp."

"W-W-W_hat_?" Allen spluttered, gray eyes widening in shock.

"What?"

"Kanda, we'll never survive!" the boy exclaimed with a shiver.

"Nonsense," Kanda scoffed, dragging the boy along as they approached the Fire Swamp's ominous entrance. "You're just saying that because nobody else ever has."

The Fire Swamp was a dark, dank mess of soggy ground, gnarled trees and clawing vines. Even the light of the midday sun did not penetrate the meshed wreath of twisted branches above them. The entire place smelled putrid; a low fog shrouded their ankles, and the bizarre sounds of some unknown creature penetrated the stillness.

"It's not that bad," Kanda stated as they surveyed the Swamp. Allen looked at him incredulously and Kanda shrugged. "What? It's nothing I can't handle, in any case."

Allen blinked.

"…I guess the trees are kind of pretty," he said after a moment. "Not that I'd like a summer home here or anything, but—"

A strange popping-crackling noise interrupted the white-haired young man, and the two looked around for a cause.

It was then that a shoot of red hot fire spewed from the ground quite near them, so close that it caught the ends of Allen's clothes on fire.

"Ah!" he cried, tripping over a protruding root in his haste to back away. The flames began to eat up his shoes and the ankles of his pants, and the two hurriedly smothered the fire.

"Singed a bit?" Kanda asked when Allen stood inspecting his feet.

Still breathing a little heavily, Allen shook his head. "You?"

Kanda gave him an 'as if' look and they continued onwards.

"What are we going to do after we get out of this godforsaken place?" Allen asked after a few moments of catching his breath. "The Prince is still trying to find me."

"Crowley's ship, the _Man Eater_, is banked at the other end," Kanda informed. "And I told you, I'm the Dread Pirate Crowley."

"But how is that possible? The Dread Pirate has been marauding the seas for _decades_, and you only left me about four years ago."

"It's pretty fucked up actually," Kanda admitted, unsheathing the katana-like sword to hack away at any vines that impeded their journey.

Allen raised his eyebrows at Kanda's apparent skill with the blade, but said nothing and waited for the long haired man to continue.

"I wasn't lying about how Crowley was interested in me after I told him why I needed to live. For two years I was his apprentice, even though the bastard said he'd kill me in the morning every day. Then one day he called me aside and told me that he actually wasn't the Dread Pirate Crowley- that had been his great-grandfather, who is currently relaxing in the Mediterranean. His real name was Aryster, and he was getting sick of all the pirating and wanted me to take over. He was more of a sissy than you'd think."

"Pirating as the family business," Allen murmured, "wow."

"So we got an entirely new crew and Aryster stayed on and called me the Dread Pirate Crowley long enough for the crew to believe him before leaving. And since then, I've been the Dread Pirate," Kanda finished his explanation and turned to look at Allen's reaction.

"…what are you going to do now?"

Kanda sighed. "Well, since I've got _you_ to worry about now," he frowned in Allen's direction but the annoyance didn't reach his eyes, "I'm going to give the title to my first mate, take my share of the loot and we'll settle down in that shitty town of yours or wherever."

Allen looped their arms together and smiled.

"That would be nice."

Allen took a step forward and then he was gone, sucked into the earth. His arm slipped away from Kanda's like butter and even before Kanda could _blink_, Allen's moon-shine hair was swallowed up by fine, powdery sand. _Lightning sand!_

Eyes widened to extreme proportions, Kanda's heart raced loudly in his chest.

"_Tch!_"

Thinking quickly, he lobbed off a long vine with his sword and, using it as a makeshift rope, plunged into the sand after his love.

Meanwhile, on the hills above the Fire Swamp, Prince Tyki set down his binoculars.

"Clearly, the fiend has taken dear Allen into the Fire Swamp." The soldiers around him gave a collective gasp, and Tyki nodded gravely. "However, I will remain firm in the belief that my bride will make it out alive, and so we must be ready to save him from the grasps of the wicked Cross's. Onwards, men, to the exit of the Fire Swamp!"

Making his horse stand on two legs like those fancy marble statues of important generals, Tyki charged forward.

Back to our heroes—if you remember, Kanda had just dived in after Allen.

There was no question in Yuu Kanda's mind that he would find Allen and they would make it out alive; they were already too far along for something like this to stop him now. He knew he had limited time, limited air, and that at most he could get a foot of distance by kicking. When the vine's length ended, Kanda knew he had to let go and find Allen within two seconds, or they would both be—no, that wasn't an option. He _would_ find Allen.

So, Kanda let go, and almost immediately, his hand found a thin, bony wrist.

Yuu Kanda actually gasped for fear then, and as the sand filled his throat, he let go of the skeleton wrist (_fleshless, dead for who knows how long- things tended to float around in the lightning sand_). Frantically, he reached both hands out to probe the sand, and after only a blessed second of searching, found Allen's shoulder.

Once he had a firm grip, Kanda kicked with all his might to get that foot of distance so that they might reach the vine. It was fruitless for a moment, but with his last strength, Kanda managed to grab hold of the vine and slowly but surely pull Allen and himself up out of the hell hole.

It was a tad unnerving even to Kanda when Allen lay motionless for an unbearably long two minutes. At last, the boy began coughing up sand and Kanda helped him sit up. When he made to pull back and give Allen some breathing room, Allen crushed the two of them together in a tight hug, burying his face in Kanda's neck while half-crying and half-laughing and, if you'll excuse the logic, half-coughing all at the same time.

Kanda allowed the hold, returned it even, for though he would not admit it, the fear of actually _losing _Allen had crossed his heart, and it was quite comforting to just hold his love like this, to make sure the silly bean was still there, still alive.

Yet in the Fire Swamp time does not pause for romantic situations, and from the corner of his eye Kanda noted the Swamp's other deadly inhabitant: the ROUS (_or Rodents Of Unusual Size_).

"Come on." Gently freeing himself from Allen's hold, he brushed himself off and stood. "Let's go."

Allen nodded, too much in shock for words, and the two continued, Kanda discreetly checking their surroundings every so often.

When Allen was able to speak again, he asked:

"What are the terrors of the Fire Swamp again?"

"The flame spurt, which are kind of anti-climatic if you ask me, there's that popping sound before each one," Kanda listed them as he subtly quickened their pace. He'd lost sight of that one particularly fat ROUS… "And two, the lightning sand, which you so brilliantly discovered."

"There's a third one," Allen insisted, "I'm sure of it… it's… oh _god_, it's the ROUS."

"I don't think they exist," Kanda replied haughtily, and not one second later he found himself tackled to the ground by that bastardly rodent.

Allen made a strange noise and stumbled backwards, searching for anything to use as a weapon.

"Kanda, your sword, where is it?!" he cried.

"Over—there—I dropped it—argh!" Kanda spoke between grunts of pain as he attempted to shove the obese thing off of him, shouting as it bit down on his shoulder.

Allen immediately took the blade and sliced the rodent's back with it, causing the creature to shriek and turn on him instead. As Kanda got to his feet again, Allen was having difficulty dealing with the rodent- he hadn't used a sword since… well, ever, unless you counted the mock-fencing he and Kanda did when they were children with sticks…

"Kanda!" he called out. "_Help_?!"

"Toss me the sword, beansprout!"

Allen did so just as the rodent caught a hold of his feet and tripped him. Kanda stabbed the thing before it could start gnawing on Allen's ankle, and the rodent performed an insane, physics-defying leap into the air as it tackled Kanda to the ground and ripped into his arm.

As Kanda wrestled with the beast, he caught a strange popping sound, kind of a crackling sound, that came from somewhere next to him… he swiftly rolled so that he and subsequently the rodent, moved in that direction, and not a moment later did a fire spurt up from the ground, severely burning the ROUS.

Allen had picked up the sword by this time, and as Kanda stood up only somewhat shakily, he stabbed the rodent several times in succession until the thing made a squealing sound and died. Allen supported Kanda, placing his arm around his shoulders and offered a smile.

"I think I see the exit."

Kanda made an appreciative sound as they left the confines of the Fire Swamp, and Allen took a deep breath and grinned as he felt the sunlight again.

"We made it," he said in relief and happiness.

"We made it," called another, regal voice. Startled, Kanda and Allen looked around to find Prince Tyki Mikk riding into the clearing. "Just in time, it would seem. Surrender!"

"To me? I accept," Kanda replied cheekily, smirking. "Now if you'd get the hell out of here so we can be on our way—"

"What nerve!" Prince Tyki exclaimed. "I'll give you full marks for bravery, but please don't make yourself a fool."

"You can't capture us—"

"Shut up and surrender, barbarian!"

From the corner of his eye, Allen saw more than a handful of soldiers emerge from the trees, even some hidden with crossbows.

"I'd rather die," Kanda snapped, and Allen could have slapped him.

Honestly, there were some things you just didn't say when you had a battalion of soldiers pointing their swords at you.

"Stop!" Allen yelled. "…don't hurt him," his voice dropped. "If…If I go with you, do you promise not to hurt him?"

"What?" Prince Tyki looked at him, shocked.

"_What_?" Kanda turned to him, eyebrows raised and eyes a mixture of emotions Allen didn't want to see.

"I _said_," Allen repeated in a firmer tone, "if I go with you, you must promise not to hurt him."

The Prince paused briefly before a satisfied smile spread over his handsome face.

"Very well, it shall be done."

As Kanda and Allen looked away, Tyki leaned towards Count Boric, and in a low murmur commanded:

"_Take him to the zoo._"

Allen gently caressed Kanda's dirty cheek.

"I lost you once, Yuu. Thinking…no, _knowing_, you were dead killed me too. If I can save you this time, I'll do it. I'll do anything."

"You _idiot_ bean, I—"

But Allen didn't get to hear what Kanda would say, for Prince Tyki scooped him up onto his horse and away they rode.

Count Boric approached Kanda.

"Let's…go, then…buddy…"

"You're a horrible liar," Kanda spat, and the Count grunted.

"I guess. Okay, lock him up."

As they chained Kanda's hands, he smiled.

"What's so funny?" the Count asked, narrowing his beady eyes.

"You've got six fingers on your right hand," Kanda said lightly. "I know someone who was looking for you."

The Count growled and punched him. Kanda slumped to the ground, unconscious.

* * *

A/N: So originally, the Dread Pirate's ship is called _Revenge_, but I thought _Man Eater_ fit this Dread Pirate better. ;)

This chapter is a tad shorter than the previous ones, but a lot of stuff happened, ya know? It felt like a good place to stop.

Let me know if you see any typos or other errors!

Reviews are always loved, _cough cough_, and provide the most wonderful inspiration~


	5. Part V: The Machine

Authors Note: This chapter wrote itself rather quickly after the last one... I guess this is just the kind of mood I'm in right now. :)

This chapter has a small dedication: to Abreaction; think of it as a sort of silly little 'welcome back' present that I hope will make ya feel better!

Thanks to all my reviewers and readers!

* * *

When Kanda next regained consciousness, he found himself strapped down to a sort of wooden stretcher. He ached quite sorely in his limbs, but upon further inspection of his wounds, he found they were rather lacking. That is, they had healed quite nicely and in a manner quite impossible had they been left to do so on their own.

A mop of silvery hair came into view, and Kanda forced his weary voice to speak.

"B-Beansprout?"

A long, pinched face with downward facing, slit-like eyes answered his call.

"Nope, just Cell Roron," the albino replied in a squeaky tone.

"Who the fuck are you?" Kanda ground out, struggling against his bindings now that the owner of the white hair had revealed himself to _not_ in fact be his dearest love.

The albino sighed, causing the triangle-shaped hat on his head to flop to the side.

"Just told you! Cell Roron, _Cell Roron_. That's the name."

"What kind of name is that?" Kanda grumbled.

"One that Master Prince Tyki gave to Roron," Cell Roron explained happily, reaching down to produce a cloth damp with what was presumably medicine.

"That explains a lot. Ow, _shit_! What the fuck did you do to me?" the captive pirate yelled as Cell Roron removed the cloth from Kanda's shoulder wound.

"Healing you."

"And _why_ would you do that?"

"Because Master Prince Tyki told me to."

"…_what_?"

"You're in the Pit of Despair, at the very bottom of Master Tyki and Master Boric's zoo," Cell Roron explained with increasing glee. "And before you start despairing, they want to make sure you're healthy! Isn't that nice?"

"Isn't that kind of _stupid_? If they think I can't escape—"

"You can't escape," Cell Roron interrupted, shaking his head slowly. "No, no, no. The chains are _far_ too thick, and you don't even know the way out. Only the Masters and _I_ know."

"I'm here until I die?" Kanda asked in clear disbelief, raising an eyebrow.

"Until they kill you, yes. But I don't think that'll come for a while," Roron mused, wrapping Kanda's shoulder in cloth bandages. "Master Boric wants to test his newest invention, so we can't have you die too quickly now."

When the albino was finished, he manipulated the wooden stretcher so that Kanda was upright. Producing a piece of bread and some cheese from who knew where, he broke off a piece and held it to Kanda's mouth.

"Say aah for the birdy," Roron cooed.

"Oh _hell_ no—"

Stuffing the food into Kanda's stupidly opened mouth, Roron hummed. It was always fun to get new prisoners… he wondered how long this one would last.

Meanwhile, not too far away in the palace, Allen wandered the halls with his eyes turned towards the floor. He hadn't spoken since the incident at the Fire Swamp, and refused any food except meager portions of fruit and water.

Rhode wrapped her arms around Tyki's neck.

"Hey, Tyki. What's wrong with Allen?" she asked as the aforementioned bride walked past them in the passageway without so much of a glance.

"He's been like that ever since I rescued him. It's Cyril's ailing health that's troubling him, of course," Tyki answered sagely. He blinked and looked down at Rhode. "Speaking of which, shouldn't you be more concerned?"

Rhode unwound her arms and shrugged.

"He'll be fine."

The next day, King Cyril died. Prince Tyki and Allen were married that same day— that same hour, in fact.

Now the two stood upon the tallest tower of the castle, greeting the people who had gathered in the square below them.

"My people," Tyki began in a booming, airy voice. "Allow me to introduce my bride. He was once a commoner like yourselves, but now you might look upon him differently. Your new queen, Allen Walker!"

* * *

"Hold up, _hold up_!" the boy half-shouted, gripping at the older man's sleeve. "What the heck is this?"

"What do you mean?" the man asked, confused.

"Allen loves Kanda! And Kanda's alive! A-And they finally found each other, so why is Allen marrying Tyki?! How could he do that? That's not fair!"

"_Life's_ not fair. Where does it say that life is fair?" the man asked, raising his eyebrows.

"You're messing up the story," the boy insisted with a scowl.

"Why don't I keep going anyway," the man rolled his eyes but smiled.

* * *

"My people," Tyki began in a booming, airy voice. "Allow me to introduce my bride. He was once a commoner like yourselves, but now you might look upon him differently. Your new queen, Allen Walker!"

Allen waved half-heartedly. He walked down into the crowd that parted for him, nodding and waving as he was told to.

"Boo!"

Allen startled at the outburst, and people moved aside to reveal a very pissed-off woman. Flicking her bright orange locks out of her face, the woman fixed the new queen with a dangerously angry crimson-eyed stare.

"_Boo_," she reiterated, slower, harsher.

"Why?" Allen asked meekly.

The woman laughed. "He asks why! He asks why, and you people _bow to him_! To him, his highness, his _filthiness_. He had true love, _true love_! A real, true love that risked everything for him, and all this one had to do was open his arms and accept it, but _noooo_," she was smiling now, though it was so malicious that perhaps it should be called something else. "He abandoned him. Left his love alone so he could marry a prince!"

"I-I did it to save him," Allen countered weakly.

"Save him! You betrayed him, you wounded him, you _left him_ to _save him_?! Are you the queen of lies too, your _lowness_? Your true love lives and you marry another? You left him to save yourself! Admit it, you shameless, selfish wh—"

Allen gasped and sat up, frantically clutching the sheets.

"A dream," he murmured to himself, running a hand through his hair, "just a dream." He cradled his head in his hands. "I can't do this anymore."

* * *

"It was ten days to the wedding, but ever since returning, Allen's nightmares had grown steadily worse."

"See, I _told you _he couldn't marry that stupid Tyki!" the boy said with a smug smile.

"Yes, yes, you're very smart," the older brushed him off. "Now shut up."

* * *

Allen stormed into the Prince's library, breathless and determined.

"It comes to this," he began in a clear voice. "I love Kanda. I always have, always will." A softer look claimed his features and Allen smiled. "I realize that now."

Prince Tyki seated himself and bade the young man to continue.

"If you make me marry you in ten days, believe me when I say that I will be dead by morning!" Allen cried, steeling his expression as he gauged Tyki's reaction.

After a moment, the Prince spoke- slowly, carefully.

"I could never cause you grief. Consider our wedding off." He stood and paced about the room in an elegant manner. "I believe this Kanda of yours was returned to—"

"To his ship?"Allen supplied. "He's a sailor, on the ship _Man Eater_. If he told you to return him anywhere, that would be it."

"Ah, yes, yes, that's the one. Well, all that's left to do now is simply alert the man." Tyki stopped walking and faced Allen. "But…are you certain that he still wants you?"

Allen's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and Tyki explained his logic in a casual manner.

"After all, it was you who did the leaving at the Fire Swamp…not to mention that pirates are not known to be men of their words…"

"My Kanda will come for me," Allen said with a smile and all the confidence in the world.

Prince Tyki made an 'I'm sure' face on the side, and resumed pacing.

"In the event that he…_doesn't_…I suggest a deal. You write four copies of a letter. I'll send my four fastest ships and we'll find the _Man Eater_. The Dread Pirate Crowley is in this area this time of year; we'll run up the white flag and deliver your letter. If Kanda wants you, bless you both." Tyki took Allen's hands in his. "If not, please consider me an alternative to suicide. Are we agreed?"

Allen nodded.

"Excellent. Now you hurry along and pen those letters- I have some business with the Count," Tyki smiled and ushered Allen out of the room.

Turning towards his faithful Count with a far more troubled expression, Tyki lead the way down a Secret Passage.

"We're going to the zoo," he instructed Count Boric. "Do hurry, or I might accidentally kill something along the way."

As they approached the Secret Entrance, Tyki sighed.

"And I thought this would be all over and done with by this point when I hired Jasdevi to murder Allen after the engagement…"

"This way is more…more…" Count Boric searched for the right word.

"Touching? Yes, you're right," Tyki continued, now smiling quite wickedly. "Just think how enraged the people will be – especially since they already love Allen – when he's killed by those Cross bastards on our _wedding night_!"

"Wait…I thought _you_ were going to—"

"Yes, you idiot, I'll be the one strangling him, but _they_ won't know that!" Tyki snapped, then calmed himself. "Look at me, I'm such a wreck," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "My blood aches for war. It'll do us all some good."

The Count grunted his agreement. The two of them now stood in front of a very gnarled but large tree, with several knots protruding from the bark at about eye-level.

"Now which knot was it?" Count Boric muttered, pushing several. "Why is it so bloody well disguised…"

Finally hitting the right one, a section of the tree pulled away, revealing the Secret Door.

"Will you be coming into the Pit?" the Count asked the Prince.

"No, I'm rather stressed at the moment. I mean, I've got my wedding to arrange, my bride to murder, a war to plan—I think I just feel like killing something today," Tyki informed with a shrug and a delicate sigh. "But I do love watching you work."

"I'm testing out the Machine today," the Count said, a rather insane looking grin taking over his visage. "I'll let you know how it goes."

"You do that."

Count Boric and Prince Tyki parted ways at the entrance; Tyki went to a different section of the underground zoo where all the wild animals were kept, and the Count went all the way down until he reached the Pit of Despair.

"Set him up!" he barked at the albino, who squeaked and wheeled Kanda over to an immense thing that was hidden by a black cloth. Unveiling his creation as Cell Roron attached strange suction-cups to Kanda's body, Count Boric gave a toothy grin. "The Machine!" he presented.

The Machine was a wooden contraption that looked something like a water wheel. Kanda couldn't figure out how exactly this was a torture device, but as Cell Roron finished hooking him up, he imagined he'd find out soon enough.

"I am writing a book about pain. It makes me happy," he started chuckling to demonstrate his happiness. Abruptly stopping, Boric leaned over Kanda. "But it won't make you happy, so I want you to be _very honest_ about how it makes you feel. Since it's your first time, we'll use the lowest setting."

For the first time Kanda noticed a dial on the Machine that went from zero to fifty. The Count turned it up to one, maybe one-point-five since he was feeling particularly happy that day.

Somewhere, a wooden gate opened and water began pouring into the Machine. As the wheel began turning, the various knobs and gears within the Machine sprung to life, and Kanda tensed as the torture began.

He couldn't describe it. It was as though something was pulling his very _life _away…he felt weak from the sheer force of the pain… he wanted to scream…

But Kanda knew they were watching, that freak Cell Roron was shivering in delight and the Count was still grinning like the idiot he was. Like hell he'd give them the pleasure of breaking him! So Kanda writhed and twitched and shook like he'd been electrocuted, but he said nothing. He didn't beg, he didn't scream, and he schooled his features to remain stoic even while his body thrashed.

When the Count turned the Machine off, Kanda's poor, abused frame kept shaking. He was panting heavily, but he would live. If this was all they could do, he would probably be able to handle it long enough to escape…

"The concept is basically a big suction," the Count told him. "Except with this one, I'm sucking life. I just sucked a year of your life away," Boric said it plainly, carelessly. "At most I think I'll try five. Or ten. We'll see."

Kanda's eyes widened in utter horror. _A year of life… a year, a year, a year, a whole year- gone…! Five years? Ten years? Allen, Allen, Allen…is this truly where I'll die?_

"Now be honest. How do you feel?"

And try as he might to stop it, two tears trickled down Kanda's cheek…

"Hmm. Interesting."

- - -

On the day of the wedding, Prince Tyki had everyone who wasn't invited to the wedding thrown out of the city. This included a section of the city known as the Thief's Quarter, and Tyki's head guard had received special permission to form a Brute Squad specifically for the purpose of emptying the place.

The entire task went about relatively well, until one of the last groups returned looking quite upset.

"There's a crazy Spanish drunkard who won't leave!" one of the guards claimed. "We need a Brute; the guy's got a sword."

The head guard sent along a new recruit to the Brute Squad, a tall, dark-skinned giant whose looks would probably stun the rebel drunk long enough for the others to cart him away.

As they approached the Spaniard's abode, they could hear his drunken soliloquy.

"I am waiting for you, Jasdevi! You told me to go back to the beginning- I have! Whenever I reach a dead-end…a problem I cannot solve, you told me to go back to the beginning- I have! And I…I will not move… this is where I am…where I will stay!" A pause for a hiccup, then: "Quedaré aqui por… siempre…" He rolled his r's and his eyes and slumped forward.

"Filthy. You, Brute, clean up here," the guard ordered.

"Will do," the newbie replied, giving the guard a conk on the head. Stepping over his knocked-out body, the brute- but perhaps you better remember him as _Marie_ – gently picked up his comrade. "Daisya, you look real bad."

"Marie…is that you? I'm glad…" Daisya asked, drifting in and out of consciousness.

"It'll be okay now, I'll take care of you so…" Marie paused. "…relax." He'd have to make do with a slant rhyme for now; there were bigger things to worry about.

Marie nursed his inebriated friend back to life. He told Daisya about Jasdevi's death and the existence of Count Boric. At first Daisya handled the news pretty well- but when he slumped over into his soup bowl snoring, Marie knew he had to resort to some severe wake up techniques.

Taking hold of the back of Daisya's head, Marie dunked his friend in a barrel of frigid water. Removing him after a moment, Marie next dunked Daisya's face into a barrel of hot water. He alternated like this for a good five minutes until Daisya spluttered and shoved Marie away.

"Enough, enough! Where is this Count Boric so that I may kill him?" Daisya asked, whipping his wet hair out of his face. His Spanish accent slurred through in his excitement and urgency.

"He's in the castle," Marie explained. "He's very close to the Prince, something like distant relatives… and the castle is guarded by thirty men!"

"_Thirty_," Daisya repeated, leaning against the wall of the shack they were in. "How many could you handle?"

"No more than ten," Marie admitted with an apologetic look.

"…that leaves twenty for me," Daisya said after a moment of calculation. "At my best I could never handle that many." He heaved a sigh. "I need Jasdevi to plan…I am no good with numbers and strategy…"

"But Jasdevi's dead."

"…no…I don't need Jasdevi…I need someone better- the man in black!"

"The man in black?"

"He defeated me with the blade, he bested you in a duel of strength, he must have outsmarted Jasdevi!" Daisya exclaimed. "And a man like that could plan my castle siege any day! Come, we must find him!"

"But you don't even know where he might be, where to start looking!" Marie called as Daisya picked up his sword and rushed out the door. The Spaniard paused at Marie's words.

"My father's soul has waited twenty years. It's now in my power to put him at rest," Daisya's hand clenched around the hilt of the beautiful sword that had been his father's last work. "I won't wait any longer. There will be blood tonight!"

Safe behind the thirty guards at the gate, seated in his study, Prince Tyki was having a conversation with his head guard.

"So the place has been emptied?"

"Yes, Milord," the dutiful soldier replied. "And I hold the only gate key with me."

"Excellent."

Allen made his entrance at this point, and Prince Tyki jumped out of his seat to greet the boy bride.

"Why hello, my dulcet darling!" he cooed, tucking an errant lock of moonshine hair behind Allen's ear. "Tomorrow we wed, isn't that lovely?" Tyki turned to the head guard. "Your soldiers will escort us to the chapel. And double the security in front of the palace!"

"We already have thirty men guarding it, Milord," the head guard informed.

"Make it sixty!" the Prince turned back to face Allen, placing two hands on the younger's shoulders. "And when we leave for the channel, every ship in my armada will accompany us on our honeymoon."

"…every ship but your fastest four, you mean," Allen corrected.

"Er, yes, of course. Naturally not those four," Tyki corrected himself hastily, but Allen had already noticed. Pulling away from Tyki's grasp, he pointed an accusing finger.

"You…you never sent them, did you?"

The Prince gave a hearty sigh.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Allen continued self-assuredly. "Kanda will come for me _anyway_."

"You're a silly boy," Prince Tyki said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, I am silly!" Allen shot back. "Silly for not having seen sooner what a coward you are- a coward with a heart full of fear!"

The Prince stiffened.

"I would not say such things, if I were you," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"You cannot hurt me," Allen stated simply. "And you cannot keep Kanda and I apart. The two of us are joined by the bonds of love, and you cannot track that- not with a thousand bloodhounds. And you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords. And when I say you are a coward, it's because you are the slimiest weakling ever to crawl the earth!"

"I would not say such things if I were you!" Tyki yelled, outraged. He grabbed Allen's arm and dragged him all the way back to the boy bride's chambers. Once he'd locked Allen inside, Tyki stalked, outraged to the zoo, and this time he went all the way down, down, down, to the Pit of Despair.

Kanda was still lying next to the Machine on the wooden stretcher. Tyki bent over him.

"You truly love each other," he said, slightly out of breath. "And so you might have been truly happy. But not one couple in history has that chance, no matter what the storybooks say. And so, I will make it that no man in this century will suffer as much as you!"

Tyki turned on the Machine in his fury, turned it all the way up to _fifty_.

"Wait, not to fifty--" Count Boric began, but he was drowned out, because...

...Kanda _screamed_.

* * *

A/N: OWAHH, what a scary ending! Poor Kanda!!

Unfortunately, I cannot claim Allen's kick-ass 'You can't hurt me, neener' speech for my own, that's ripped from the movie. Ehehe.

In case you didn't catch it, the woman who beats Allen into sense via his dreams is indeed FOU. If anyone's going to make Allen see straight, it'd be her, don't you think? ;)

Cell Roron is the little wailing jailer that resides in Tyki's card... you know, the one that tells him all the people he has to kill? Yah. I almost didn't remember the guy...

Uhm, okay, that's all I've got to say for this chapter, methinks. The next update will most likely be soon!

Reviews, as always, are love-love-loved! :3


	6. Part VI: It'll Take a Miracle

Authors Note: Oh my god. I'm sorry that I've been dead the past... what, months? D: School has really killed my life... and my source of inspiration. I managed to write this one _finally_, after much despairing (which I hope does not come across in the writing, but sorry, it has not been beta-ed or reread). Because I've already kept you lot waiting long enough, I'll save the rambling for afterwards. Enjoy! -crosses fingers-

* * *

The town was dusty and bustling in preparations for the upcoming wedding. The clamor in the streets mfade it hard to hear much save the braying of donkeys and bickering of people, but suddenly, a noise unlike one ever heard before made Daisya stop in his tracks.

"What's wrong?" Marie asked, placing a hand on Daiysa's shoulder.

Daisya shivered.

"Can't you hear it, Marie?" he whispered.

Marie listened, and then his eyes widened.

"I feel like crying."

"That—that is no ordinary noise," Daisya said, moving quickly through the crowd again. "That is pure agony… heartbreak itself incarnated into a sound."

The scream increased in pitch and now the entire mass of people stood still and listened to the cry.

"Wot's that?"

"Somethin' dying, sounds like."

"Oh, what a wretched noise—"

"Wonder what poor thing's makin' that ruckus…"

The torturous noise lasted only a few moments longer, before silencing abruptly in a most disturbing fashion. The people shrugged and shook their heads and continued their lives. Daisya turned to Marie.

"My heart made that sound when the Count slaughtered my father," he explained, as he pushed through the crowd. "The man in black is making it now."

"The man in black?" Marie queried, following after. "How do you know?"

"His true love is marrying another tonight—who else has such a cause for ultimate suffering?"

They followed the direction that the sound had come from all the way into the forest. When they found themselves in a clearing, Marie noticed that the castle was actually quite close.

"Are you sure you heard it this way, Daisya? We must be within the palace grounds…"

"I am positive," Daisya replied firmly.

"Well then, where is he?"

A shriek drew their attention to the small albino man who was now attempting to hide behind a tree.

"You are not M-Master!" the strange one cried, shaking so badly that the wheelbarrow in his hands shuddered with him.

"And who are you?" Daisya asked, raising an eyebrow and drawing his sword. "You work here? Tell me where the man in black is."

"Cell Ro—wait! I-I'm not going to tell you anything!" Roron decided, sticking his chin up in defiance (even though his knees were still clocking together).

"Look, boy. Man. Thing. We can do this the easy way," Daisya took two steps forward and Roron squealed like a pig, "or the hard way." Daisya's sword was at the albino's throat before he'd finished his words.

Cell Roron started wailing. "I'm not saying anything, I don't know anything, Roron knows nothing!"

"Fine then. Marie, I think this one needs to have his memory jogged. Would you?"

Marie strode over and Roron stared up at the giant fearfully.

"Roron knows nothing, Roron knows nothing," he chanted, voice getting progressively higher.

"We'll see about that," Daisya smiled. "Go on, Marie."

The giant curled his hand into a fist and let it drop on to Roron's head. Maybe a bit too hard. The albino jailer's eyes rolled back and he slumped forward onto the ground.

"…a little less force next time, okay?" Daisya suggested.

"Sorry, Daisya. I won't do that again, no way." After chuckling a little at his rhyme, Marie refocused. "So now how are we going to find him?"

Daisya sank to his knees.

"Daisya—?"

"Ssh!" After a moment of prayer, Daisya pulled out his father's sword and held it with clasped hands towards the sunlight. "Father… I am so close to avenging you… to putting us both at rest. _Please help me_. I know I have failed you for all these years… forgive me and guide me…"

He stood, holding the sword out before him against the light. The steel cast rays around them, but did nothing that signified some spiritual influence. Daisya closed his eyes and began stumbling around the clearing, moving the sword in every direction, waiting for some sort of sign.

"_Please_," he cried through gritted teeth. "Please, you have to—"

Marie sighed and Daisya opened his eyes, standing face to face with a particularly gnarled tree. He groaned and raised his hand.

"_No_!" As he shouted he brought a fist down upon the tree, upon a certain knot on the tree that caused a certain Secret Door to slide open.

The two stared at the newly discovered entrance for a moment.

"Go figure," Marie whispered, murmuring a quick prayer himself.

* * *

"Wow. Did Daisya's father's ghost really help him?" The boy asked. "I thought you said ghosts didn't exist!"

"Maybe. Or maybe Daisya was still a little drunk. The world may never know." The boy nodded like he understood. "Oh, and kiddo?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't do drugs."

* * *

Marie and Daisya hurried down, down, down. They passed various levels filled with foul creatures and fouler stenches; filled with freakish plants and the hum of insects. Down they went until they reached the very last level, a pit—_the _Pit of Despair.

A strange machine sat in the corner but they paid it no heed, for there, lying on a wooden stretcher, was the one they had been searching for.

"He's dead," Marie declared sadly.

* * *

"Wait! You mean he's faking, right? Kanda's not _really _dead, right?"

"I mean what I say," the man replied. "Now shall I keep reading—"

"But who gets Prince Tyki?"

"Excuse me?"

"Who saves Allen and kills Prince Tyki? Is it Daisya?" the boy persisted.

"…no one. Prince Tyki doesn't die."

"You mean he _wins_?" the child spluttered. "Why did you tell me something like this?!"

"You're taking this story far more seriously than I imagined," the man made to stand. "I think we should stop."

"No! No…I'm…I'm okay. Keep going," the boy tugged the man's sleeve. "Just…keep going."

"Hmm…fine. So Daisya turned to Marie with a determined look that outshone his desperation."

* * *

"Then only one man can help us now."

They took Kanda's body all the way up and out of the Pit and out of the Zoo. Daisya didn't say where they were going, but Marie had always trusted his friend and so would trust him now. When they reached a small, rather shabby looking shack, Daisya pounded on the flimsy front door.

"Miracle Man! Miracle Man, are you there?"

"The name's _Bookman _now, you idiot!" came the cantankerous reply. A slot in the door opened and a pair of beady old eyes glared at them. "And what the hell do you want?"

"Are you the same Miracle Man who worked for the king all those years?" Daisya questioned breathlessly.

"…_yes_," snapped the man. "And then he fired me on a whim of the Prince's. Thank you _so _much for bringing up that humiliating event- would you like to give me a paper cut and squeeze some lemon juice on it too?"He slammed the slot shut.

Daisya knocked—if such fervent banging could be called knocking—again.

The slot opened and the distinctly annoyed face appeared once more.

"Desist in your actions or I'll call…the Brute Squad!"

"I'm on the Brute Squad," Marie commented with a smile.

"…you _are _the Brute Squad," Bookman replied with raised eyebrows.

"Miracle Ma—_Bookman_. We need a miracle." Daisya begged.

"I'm retired," Bookman grumbled. "And _besides_, why would you want the help of someone who got _fired_ by the Prince? I'm _obviously_ not up to par. I might kill whoever you want miracled instead."

"He's already dead."

Bookman's eyes widened. "Oh." He coughed. "Bring him in, I guess."

The interior of the place was possibly shabbier than the exterior, which was quite a feat considering the place appeared as though too large an exhale from Marie would send it toppling. The roof of sticks and hay allowed a decent amount of light to flood inside, but instead of making the place glow or look inviting, it caught the copious amounts of dust in the air and made resting bugs buzz to life and rocket around the limited space. There was a single table in the middle of the room, and various satchels and bags and jars filled with unknown objects lined the single countertop.

"Put him down on the table, then," Bookman ordered, carefully putting his faded orange patch of hair up into a ponytail that looked quite fluffy. When Kanda was situated properly, the older man lifted his arm, examined it, and let it drop. Loudly. "He's dead alright."

"Then there is no hope?" Daisya asked, shaking Bookman's shoulders. Bookman lifted Daisya's hands off with his thumb and forefinger with a disgusted look.

"Refrain from touching me, if you please. And I didn't say that. I've seen worse." At Marie and Daisya's disbelieving faces, Bookman rolled his eyes. "He's only _mostly_ dead."

"Mostly dead…?"

"Never mind that. You have money?"

"Just this," Daisya produced a small pouch.

"I _never_ worked for so little," Bookman scoffed at the pittance of payment. "Only once, and that was for a very noble cause."

"This is for a noble cause too," Daisya pressed. "His wife is a cripple, he has seventeen children, all starving. And a dog, also."

"Well aren't you a rotten liar?" Bookman laughed dryly.

Daisya tried again. "I need him to avenge my father, who was murdered before my eyes twenty years ago."

"Your first story was better," the miracle worker remarked, turning to scan his countertop. "Now where did I put those bellows…I bet this guy owes you two money," he continued, lifting a very old bellows out of the dust. "I guess I'll just ask him."

"Ask him? How? He's dead, he can't talk."

"Look who thinks he's a genius all of a sudden," Bookman pursed his already thin lips. "Did you not hear me before, idiot? He's only _mostly _dead. Which is different from all dead," he placed the bellows between Kanda's teeth. "When a man is all dead, there's only one thing you can do."

"What's that?"

"Go through his pockets and look for loose change," Bookman deadpanned. "But if he's mostly dead, it means he's partly alive." He moved the bellows three times before removing them. He bent down to Kanda's ear with a murmured, "_And the million dollar question is…_" and then yelled: "You! What's the thing most important to you? What do you have here that's worth living for?"

With that he pushed down on Kanda's chest. Lo and behold, as the air passed betwixt Kanda's lips, words followed. "_True love._"

Although it sounded more like 'true blub' to be honest, it was close enough.

"There! True love— you cannot ask for a more noble cause than that!" Daisya exclaimed.

"True love is indeed the noblest cause," Bookman agreed. "But that's not what he said! He distinctly said _to bluff_! Which means you three hooligans were probably playing cards when he—"

"Liar!" a screech sounded from above. A young man fell through the roof and landed in the middle of the room, pointing an accusing finger at Bookman. "You old panda-faced liar!"

"Back to the cellar with you, brat!" Bookman shouted, grabbing the young man's finger and twisting it a way that made him wince and struggle.

"A-Admit it you panda," the younger continued. "Ever since you got fired you lost all your confidence! You lost your spunk!"

"Stop talking this instant unless you want outhouse duty for the rest of your life!"

"Just because Tyki—"

"Lavi, don't you dare say that name!" Bookman hollered. There was now a glint in the younger's eye.

"What, _Tyki_? Tyki, Tyki, Tyki, Tyki, Tyki!"

"Quiet, you moronic apprentice! I told you never to utter such profanity in my presence!"

"What are you going to do about it, you damn panda-faced geezer?!"

Bookman kicked his apprentice in the face.

"_Oi!_" Daisya slammed a fist down on the table to get the bickering family's attention. (Which was probably not a good idea, considering how unstable the thing was, but then, Daisya had already used up his good-idea quota for the day.) "You hate the prince, right? Well, this guy is Allen's lover—you know, the prince's bride? If you revive him, he's going to steal Allen away, and that'll _really _piss off Tyki!"

"Will it now?" Bookman removed his foot from Lavi's nose with a ponderous look.

"If you're anything more than a decrepit old man, you'll save this guy!" Lavi put in his two cents in a nasally voice as he cradled his sore face. "Fuck, I think you broke my nose…"

"Shut up, fool," Bookman retorted, connecting his heel to Lavi's abused head. "You were saying?"

"Er, yes. Utter embarrassment too- plenty of humiliation," Daisya added.

"Now _that _is the real noblest cause of all!" Bookman proclaimed with a positively evil cackle. "Lavi, get off your lazy ass and bring me the chocolate."

"_My _lazy ass? I don't wanna hear that from _you_—" Lavi began.

"Go, go, go!" Daisya urged. "Please!"

"I'm gone, man!"

A few moments later, Bookman produced a small ball coated in chocolate.

"Behold, a miracle pill."

"What's the chocolate for?"

"To make it go down easier," Lavi answered. "Now it'll take fifteen minutes to work fully—"

"And he can't go swimming for at least an hour afterwards."

"Thank you for everything," Daisya clasped Bookman's hands and bowed.

"Yes, yes."

Marie scooped up Kanda's mostly-dead body and they took their leave.

"Have fun storming the castle!" Lavi called after them. When they were out of earshot he turned to Bookman. "You think it'll work?"

"It would take a miracle."

* * *

A/N: I'll freely admit, I've always wanted to hear Bookman say "Shut up, foo'!"

I'll also say that I love Lavi in this chapter. More than anyone else, except maybe Cell Roron because holy jamoca shake is that jailer fun stuff to write! :D

This chapter follows the movie more closely than the others, I think, mainly because I didn't really like all the stuff that happened with Fezzik and Inigo in the zoo in the book... . Eheh.

On a more...morose note... Sugar Free is on an undetermined hiatus. :( I seem to have lost my track and plan and inspiration for that one, I'm sorry.

BUT. I _will_ finish this fic, mark my words!

I'm leaving to go out of country next week, but I believe I'll have internet access so I shall try and update a bit quicker than this time around.

Much love to all of you who are still reading this! I reread all of your lovely reviews and they motivated me to keep writing! :3


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